


The Heartless Prince

by RavenCurls



Category: Wicked - All Media Types, Wicked - Schwartz/Holzman
Genre: Drama, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Inaccuracies, Romance, some graphic depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2020-08-19 18:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 52,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20214235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenCurls/pseuds/RavenCurls
Summary: She does not believe in fate. He does not believe in love. But what they don't believe in will bring them together, and tear them apart.





	1. Chapter 1 Prologue

**Chapter 1 Prologue**

**AN **: Shout out to LittleMissDelirious, AngelaIsAwesome (from ff.net) and MyLittleElphie (from ff.net) for nudging and encouraging me to continue to write during the times when I wanted to give up (which is often). And thank you MyLittleElphie for beta-ing this chapter way back in 2017 (I actually started this in 2016. How time flies!). Any remaining mistake is mine.

I had wanted to post chapter 1 (prologue) and 2 together, but the weekend is ending and I still have work to do and a mountain of clothes to iron. Updates for this fic will not be regular; I’m really struggling to find free time nowadays (those who know me IRL will know the stuff that I’m juggling with now).

A forewarning. This is not a happy story (it ain’t angst yet though). But this miserable plot bunny just refuses to let go until I wrote it.

* * *

Summer.

Melena sat on a chair on what could pass for a verandah. Next to her was a small table, carried over by one of the boys from the village who occasionally helped Nanny around the house, and the old woman had placed a tea pot and a cup on the table. Melena poured herself a fresh cup of tea – milk flower tea to be exact – and she grimaced as she took a sip. It did not exactly taste terrible, but after drinking the same thing for the past seven months she would give anything, well, almost anything, to drink something else. Even if it was something as simple as cool, refreshing plain water.

But Frex had insisted. He had bought the milk flowers from a herbalist that he had met in Quadling Country and had sworn that it would work.

"How do you know that it will work?" she had questioned him. Her husband just shrugged. "Well, she was the best according to all the Quadlings whom I had spoken to. It's worth a try. I am sure you don't want another one like her - ," he had cast a glance at his first born before turning away almost immediately, as though he could not bear to look at her for more than a second. "Do you?"

And Melena could only nod her head mutely. Surprisingly, even Nanny, who would usually disagree with Frex on most things, and who loved her firstborn to bits, took over the packages without a word and brewed the tea for Melena every day without fail.

A distance away, under a red sandalwood tree by the pond, a little girl played by herself. Under the shade of the tree, she seemed almost normal. She was, perhaps, a little bit too skinny for a child of her age. Her hair was, perhaps, of a shade so black, it seemed that it swallowed the light. And if one looked carefully, one might notice that the girl's skin seemed to reflect the green of the leaves and the grass. That was, until she moved out of the shade and one realized that it was not a reflection, but rather, her skin itself was green, a shade that was could almost be described as emerald.

"Fabala, Elphaba, don't go too near to the water," Melena shouted. Her daughter turned and looked at her wordlessly, before moving back to the tree as she squint her eyes and continued her search for the bright red seeds under the tree.

Melena leaned back with a sigh. She loved her daughter, but the summer heat and the advanced pregnancy had made her lazier than ever. When she was not pregnant, she would be next to her little frog under the tree, searching for the seeds, or running around the grass playing catching or other childish games. She stretched her legs, trying to lift them up so that she could see her toes, to no avail. She placed her hands fondly on her growing belly. A son for Frex. She imagined her son growing up, a splitting image of his father, and joining his father on his travels. No, she wanted her son to stay with her, to keep her company and to keep his elder sister company. To be a helping hand around the house, to do the chores that should have been done by the man of the house if only he was at home more often.

Melena smiled to herself and closed her eyes momentarily, and therefore she did not realise it when Elphaba got bored with collecting the seeds and was drawn to the water again.

The girl stood at the edge of the pond, her toes nearly touching the water. Near, but not touching. Her skirt was bunched up together, forming a basket of sorts, and inside were the seeds from the red sandalwood tree. The water was calm, and she could see her reflection in the water. She picked a seed from her collection and dropped into the water, watching as the ripples distorted her reflection. She found it funny and giggled as she dropped another seed into the water, followed by another, always dropping the next seed into the water before the surface of the water was calm again.

She did that until she ran out of seeds, and as the water stilled again, she saw the reflection of an old woman close behind her. The little girl stood up too fast, and she lost her balance, flapping her arms wildly as she tried to regain her balance. She overcompensated and fell forward, but instead of falling into the water, she suddenly found herself sprawling on cold white, a thin piece of ice that had appeared out of nowhere. Her movement jolted the frozen piece, and it slowly drifted out towards the middle of the pond, with her on it.

The girl scrambled to her hands and knees and tried to turn around. She opened her mouth, wanting to call for her mother but the words were stuck in her throat. The old woman stood at the edge of the pond, motionless. Even in her panic state Fabala noticed everything about her. Her white hair, stringy and greasy. Her face was dried and wrinkled, and there was a birth mark covering half of her face. The clothes on her were well-worn, tied at the waist with a raffia string, and frayed at the hems and mended in far too many places. She wore a pair of pants that was too short for her, exposing her scrawny, veiny legs. She had on her feet, a pair of old, flat shoes with a hole at the front, showing part of a toe with its dirty, chipped nail. The shoes were dirty, scuffed and had a shade of grey that had accumulated due to the lack of care and constant wear and nothing to do with its original colour. And even from afar, Fabala was able to see that her eyes were a shade of light grey, cloudy.

The old woman smiled at her, showing a few yellowed teeth that turned her smile creepy. She curled her fingers inward, beckoning to her, and the little girl found the patch of ice drifting back to the shore as if magicked, towards the old woman.

The girl finally found her voice.

"Mommy!"

Melena snapped out of her daydream. For a moment she wondered who was calling her, until she saw her daughter in the middle of the pond, supported by what looked like a piece of ice that was looking thinner by the second. Elphaba's limbs were stiff and Melena could see the panic in her eyes even from a distance. At the edge of the pond was an old woman, her back to Melena.

"Nanny!" Melena shouted into the house as she quickly lifted herself out of the chair and ran down the slope, her hands supporting her belly.

By the time Melena reached the shore, the old woman had somehow lifted Elphaba out of the water. The icy platform had melted under the hot sun, leaving just a few small pieces bobbing on the water.

"Hi dearie," the old woman said as she lifted Elphaba's chin with one hand while the other hand stroked the raven black hair.

Melena pulled her daughter away from the old woman.

"Stay away from my daughter, you witch!" she snarled as she possessively crushed Elphaba to her.

The old woman cackled. "Now who's calling who a witch? If there is a witch here, it is definitely not old Yackle.". She chuckled, her boney shoulders moving up and down asynchronously. "Now Melena, you should know better than to judge a person by the looks. Old Yackle means no harm."

Melena took a step back.

"Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"Yackle knows everything. Yackle knows the past and the future. Yackle knows about _him_." She gave Elphaba a knowing look, and Melena's hand went to her mouth. Sweet Lurline, no one was supposed to know. Not even Nanny, though the old woman had definitely suspected something.

"What… what do you want?"

"Yackle is here to tell you your future."

"I'm not interested in fortune telling," Melena told Yackle.

"It is not fortune telling, dearie. It is the future. Your future, and the future of your daughters." The old woman pointed a croaked finger at her stomach.

Melena's hand went to her stomach protectively. "No, this is a son. I am carrying a boy."

Yackle clucked. "Now who told you that the baby is a boy. It is a girl. A beautiful baby girl. She is an exact image of you, the same dark brown hair and flawless fair skin."

Melena paused. The baby might be a girl, but she would not have the same skin color as her sister.

"And their futures?" she whispered, hoping that it would be another piece of good news.

The old woman shook her head slowly, as if knowing what Melena was hoping for.

She told her.

"No!" Melena screamed as she pressed her hands against Elphaba's ears and staggered backward, away from the old woman. "No, no, no, no, no. You're lying." Melena kept shouting, a useless talisman against the old woman who was matching her steps one by one, approaching as she was retreating, her mouth continued to move. Yackle was here to deliver a message and delivered a message she did.

By the time Nanny reached the mother and child, Melena was a nervous wreck of sobs and shivers. She clutched her daughter close to her as she kept shaking her head and mumbling the same word over and over again.

"No no no no no no no…"

"What are you mumbling?" Nanny asked, shaking the younger woman's shoulders gently.

Melena looked up, and she pointed her finger in front of her. "The witch said that my daughter will kill me…"

"What witch?"

Melena looked in front of her. There was no old woman standing in front of her. She turned her head around frantically. There was not a sight of the wrinkled face and white hair as far as she could see.

"She was here!" she exclaimed. "She tried to drown Fabala and she said that I will die…."

"What witch?" Nanny asked again. "The heat must have gotten into you. Come into the house and I will add some ice to your tea." She tried to pull the pregnant woman towards the general direction of the house.

Melena looked at her daughter who was still clinging to her.

"Where is she, Fabala? Where is that old witch?"

Her daughter looked at her. "She disappeared, Mommy. She just disappeared."


	2. Chapter 2

It was the school holidays. In the centre of the courtyard, a figure struggled to walk against the wind, looking as if she might be blown away any moment. The chilly wind blew the hood off her head, and she lowered her head, trying to hide behind the pile of books that she was carrying with both her hands; she could not pull back the hood, not unless she wanted to drop those precious works. With a few final steps, she hopped onto the porch of the only café that was opened during the holiday season and heaved a sigh of relief.

The place was empty save for a staff on duty, and she chose a table near to the counter, putting down the books before she gave her limbs a good stretch. She unfurled the scarf that was winded all around her face, revealing a thin, bespectacled face. Her skin, usually green, had a reddish cast due to the chill. She put down the scarf close to the books before making her way to the counter and ordered a mushroom sandwich. 

The girl sat down with the sandwich in her hands, enjoying the warmth of the food. She would love to have some hot coffee but knew that she had to be prudent with her money. Today was unusually cold, and the only coat and scarf that she had were barely enough to keep her warm. She thought of getting another coat but dismissed the thought just as quickly. She would make do by wearing another layer inside on colder days.

Elphaba looked at the pile of books in front of her. Most of them were biology books, except for a book that she had borrowed for herself. Biology was never her forte, but biology was what Doctor Dillamond ate, breathed and slept. And she worked for Doctor Dillamond. Not to assist him with his actual work but to help him with his writing and research, since the Goat was unable to hold a pen for long with his hooves. She had only been here for one month, and she was learning new things every day. Even though she was not his student, Doctor Dillamond was a natural teacher and he told her stories of exciting discoveries made by other people all over Oz, of the things that he was working on and the benefits that it would have on both mankind and Animalkind; she could not help but be influenced by the doctor’s enthusiasm on the subject, his love for his research. The thought put a smile on her face. She knew that she could never afford to go to university, but part of the perks of being a staff of the university meant that she had access to the libraries, and everyone knew that Shiz had one of the most extensive libraries among the universities in Oz. She had already read two books on the history of Oz, and this time, a book on the legends of Kumbrica had caught her eye. She could not wait for night to come so that she could dive into the book. Doctor Dillamond’s research was interesting, but that did not mean that she could not indulge in her other interests.

She could still remember the day when the letter had arrived in the mail. The first thing that caught her eye was the school crest on the upper right corner of the envelope, even before she saw that the letter was addressed to her in cursive handwriting. The sight of the school crest sent her heart racing, and she dropped the chores that she was doing at that moment and tore the envelope open. Inside was a letter, printed on the school letter pad.

_  
_

_Dear Miss Elphaba,_

_ Thank you very much for coming to Shiz for the interview. I am glad to inform you that we would like to offer you the position of Research Assistant._

She read the letter, her hands shaking. She knew that the interview had gone pretty well. Doctor Dillamond had mentioned that he had problems hiring an assistant – no one wanted to work for an Animal, and the pay was not much to speak of. But the free access to the libraries was like a dream came true, and Elphaba had been impressed with Doctor Dillamond’s work after reading an article written by him a few months ago. 

The letter had provided more information about the job scope, the benefits and accommodation – she could look for her own lodging or live in the dormitory with the students. She was to write back to confirm if she would accept the offer.

Was that even a question? Of course she would accept the offer! While she was aware that there were only two other candidates applying for the job, the fact that she did not have much of a biology background was a handicap in her opinion. While part of her job was to write for Doctor Dillamond, she was also required to assist him in his research when required - she would need to pick up on the subject quickly. However, working at Shiz was definitely a much better option than staying in Munchkinland, working as a teacher for little children or in a shop. The pay might not be high, but she had never been high on maintenance. Her father travelled around to spread the words of the Unnamed God, and his job (to quote Frex) ‘fills the mind and the soul, not the pocket’, and she had learnt to live frugally from Nanny when she was younger, and then when she was on her own when she grew up and Nanny left. 

Elphaba looked around the house and wondered for a moment if Father would be lonely when she was gone. He was hardly around; he never stayed in the house longer than necessary. And even when he was at home, the two of them rarely talked. He was never one with words, and the death of his wife during the birth of their second child alienated him further from his firstborn. Elphaba thought of Shiz and could not help but smile.

* * *

Elphaba finished the sandwich before it turned cold, and wrapped the scarf around her face before she lifted the heavy books into her arms. She was given one hour for lunch, but Doctor Dillamond had skipped lunch as usual, and she would like to go back as soon as possible to help him in his preparation on the teaching materials for the upcoming semester. 

She walked towards the door as it opened, admitting a group of students. They took a glance at her before turning away, as if she did not exist. At least none of them had called her names. The door swung as the last student came in, and nearly slammed into her nose. One of the students laughed, and she glared at them before she pushed the door open with her shoulder.

The wind had stopped when she emerged from the cafe. As she made her way back to the office, she saw a brood of ducklings coming out from one of the many ponds in the campus, making soft peeping sounds as they waddled clumsily behind the mother duck. Elphaba stood there as she looked at the adorable creatures, a wistful smile on her face. The ducks started to cross a road, a croaked line of grey fur balls that almost blended into the dusty road. And that was when she heard the clopping sounds.

It was a carriage, pulled by a pair of horses. There was a sharp turn before her, and Elphaba could see the vehicle flashing between the trees as it sped along the road. She looked at the ducklings, waddling as if they had all the time in the world, oblivious to the danger. One of them tumbled and turned to the opposite direction, seemingly lost for a moment. Elphaba turned to the carriage. It did not show signs of slowing down. There was no way for the driver to notice the small animals that were almost the same colour as the road and the sky. She looked around, wanting to find a place to put down the books so that she could scoop up the ducklings and carried them to safety but there was no place within sight for her to place the books without dirtying them. The sounds of the transport grew louder, and Elphaba realized that she only had moments before the carriage turned the corner. It was a downward path after that, and the carriage would pick up momentum and run over the ducks within seconds and the driver would be none the wiser.

She stepped onto the road, heading straight into the path of the oncoming carriage.

“Stop!” she shouted at the top of her voice, but her scarf covered her mouth, and what little muffled voice that came out was carried away by the wind. She wondered how much the driver could hear on top of the noises made by the horses and vehicle. She wanted to wave, but her hands were still loaded with books (that she had regretted borrowing), and all she could do was to try to jump as high as she could to catch his attention, which was not much.

But the driver did see her when the carriage turned, and he pulled on the reins. Perhaps he did not pull hard enough, or perhaps the horses skidded on the unseen ice that had frozen on the downward slope, and they picked up speed instead of slowing down. Elphaba stared at them, at the carriage that was tumbling towards her. They were so close she would see the way the horses’ mane move in the breeze, the panicked look on the driver’s face as he shouted something, the sounds of the hooves and wheels filing her ears. Somewhere in her mind, something screamed at her. To move, to get out of the way before it was too late, but her legs somehow remained glued to the spot. The only thing she could do was to close her eyes. What an irony, to come all the way to Shiz, only to be trampled to death by a pair of horses.

She felt the impact - it hit her at a speed and strength that she could not imagine. It drove her to the ground, the books torn out of her hands, and she felt herself tumbling, the grass cutting her skin as she rolled uncontrollably down the slope before she finally slowed to a stop. She felt the weight of the animal, heavy on her. Its breath…

Wait, a horse should be heavier than that. A horse should not be able to wrap its limbs around her. And a horse definitely did not have fresh minty breath. 

She opened her eyes.

And saw a pair of blue eyes looking back at her.


	3. Chapter 3

She felt the impact - it hit her at a speed and strength that she could not imagine. It drove her to the ground, the books torn out of her hands, and she felt herself tumbling, the grass cutting her skin as she rolled uncontrollably down the slope before she finally slowed to a stop. She felt the weight of the animal, heavy on her. Its breath…

Wait, a horse should be heavier than that. A horse should not be able to wrap its limbs around her. And a horse definitely did not have fresh minty breath. 

She opened her eyes.

And saw a pair of blue eyes looking back at her.

She let out a gasp.

He had dark brown hair, a face pale when it should be red bitten by the chilling wind. Eyes almost the shade of cobalt blue. He looked at her, his chest heaving, mist forming in the air between them with each exhalation. His eyes were wide with surprise, unblinking, until one of the horses snorted, and it shook him out of his reverie. He scrambled quickly to his knees and turned away, his hands sweeping the dirt and grass from his clothes.

“Thank you,” Elphaba mumbled as she stood up. The boy turned and looked at her, and she was surprised to see the irritation written all over his face. 

“Do you have a death wish or something?”

Elphaba was taken aback. “What?”

“You stood in the path of an oncoming carriage,” he gestured to the vehicle that had stopped a short distance away. “Even someone with half a brain cell would know that you should not do that.”

“I….” Elphaba was caught offhanded by the harshness of his words. Couldn’t he see what she was trying to do? The students in Shiz had been ignoring her mostly, though one or two had called her names as she walked past. But to be spoken like this - it was the first time.

“There are ducklings on the road!” she tried to defend herself. “They’d die if the carriage had run over them!”

“So why couldn’t you pick them up instead of resorting to such drama,” he retorted.

“They’re wet!” She was not going to put the wet ducklings on top of the library books and ruined them.

A grin spread across his face. The boy looked at her, his head cocked to one side.

“And water will melt you?” he asked, amused.

Elphaba dropped her jaw in surprise. This boy is incorrigible!

The driver, who had been watching their interaction from the corner of his eye as he tended to his horses, stepped forward. He took off his hat and held it in his hands, twisting the fabric.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I was going too fast…”

The boy patted him on his back.

“You’re not at fault, sir. She’s green, and we all know that green means go.” He chuckled as he walked away.

She took a step toward him, her hands clenched.

“You! Stop there!” she shouted after him.

To her surprise, he did stop. And he turned around, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes?”

“You would have done the same thing if you were me.”

“Me? No, I wouldn’t. It’s just a few ducklings.”

“You’d let them die? You can’t be so heartless.”

An expression flittered across his face, gone before she could read it, and he broke into a grin again. 

“You know something? You’re right. I’m heartless.” He turned and walked away, stepping over one of the books with barely a glance, leaving Elphaba alone with the driver. A pretty brunette glided down the slope to meet him. She shot Elphaba a dirty look before she turned her attention to the boy. Her hands went to his face, picking a blade of grass from his hair, fussing over him.

Elphaba turned away from the couple and picked up the books, muttering to herself. To her dismay, the book that the boy had stepped over had landed on a puddle of grey slush. The pages were soaked through, and Elphaba had no doubt that she would need to pay for the ruined book. The driver handed her the last book, apologising profusely for the incident, and she had to assure him that she was unharmed and would not lodge a complaint against him. She looked for the ducklings – they were a short distance away - they seemed oblivious to the furore that had arisen because of them. She counted once, and then again, making sure that they were all accounted for. At least something good had come out from the whole incident.

The warmth of Doctor Dillamond’s office was a welcome respite from the cold outside, and Elphaba took off her scarf and coat after she had put the books on the table. She inspected each book carefully, picking off a few blades of grasses that were on the covers. Except for that one book, the rest of the books were unmarked, and she let out a sigh of relief subconsciously. The same could not be said for her coat though. It was coated with grass, turning it more green than black, and to her horror, there was a rip at the side, near to the hip, almost as wide as a fist. She almost swore, and then stopped herself and let out her breath explosively instead. As if she did not have enough problem keeping warm in the first place? 

“Is that you, Miss Elphaba?” the Goat’s voice interrupted her thoughts. 

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, quickly stuffing the ruined book into her bag that she had placed under the table. “I got most of the books that you wanted.”

The doctor shuffled over, taking over the stack of books.

“Thank you so much, Miss Elphaba. I really have no idea how I’d cope without you.”

Elphaba smiled at the compliment and followed her supervisor to the table where she had left her work before lunch.

As she worked next to the Goat, Elphaba’s thoughts went back to the boy. The boy with the beautiful blue eyes. She was thankful that he had tried to save her, but why must he be so rude? Was it because of her skin colour, she wondered, and she let out yet another inaudible sigh before she continued with her work.

* * *

Across the campus, the boy in question sat on his couch next to the fireplace, his fingers holding a glass of wine by its rim. 

He had only been back three days, and he was utterly bored. Galinda and Avaric would only be back next month, and meanwhile, he had to find some other ways to entertain himself. For a moment, he regretted coming back early, but there was this princess from Glikkus who was definitely overstaying her welcome in Kiamo Ko. She had stuck to him like glue and had followed him like a puppy. She was boring, yapping about her privileged life and how much better Glikkus was compared to Vinkus, and he could not afford to be rude. Leaving early for Shiz had seemed like such a good idea at that time.

He let out a groan. Yes, he must be bored out of his mind. That would explain why he had pushed the green girl out of harm’s way. The boredom and the cold must have frozen his brain completely.

His thoughts went back to her. He was with Crissa (or was that girl’s name Lissa? He could not remember), and the brunette had made a snide comment about a Vegetable and gestured to the driveway. It was only then that he noticed her, the tall figure dressed in a black coat that was never in fashion (and never would), her green face peeking out of an old fraying scarf. He saw the way she stepped delicately around the little animals, the books hugged close to her chest, a smile that he could see even from a distance. He was an Arjiki, and the Arjikis had always worshipped nature and respected the animals. It was the belief that had served them well for many generations; they live cohesively with Mother Nature and never take more than necessary. But most city folks did not give two hoots about them. And here she was, this girl, risking her life to save a few ducklings that most probably would not survive till spring. 

Brave. 

Stupid. 

Considerate. 

Brainless. 

Thoughtful.

The slight pleading in her voice as she raised her voice at him, wanting him to understand, hoping that he would understand.

When was the last time anyone had raised his or her voice at him? He could not remember.

Yes, she could be interesting. Perhaps interesting enough to last a month.

He downed the remaining wine in the glass to wash away the bitterness in his mouth, a smile on his face.

* * *

Elphaba went to the administrative building the next morning.

The administrative office was sparsely staffed during the school holidays. While the counter was not manned, Elphaba could see through the tinted panes that there were people inside the office, speaking so softly that she could neither decipher the words nor the gender of the speakers.

“Excuse me?” she called out. A figure shifted and stood up with much difficulty and came out to the main office. The view of a manicured hand with a long flowing sleeve told her who it was even before the face appeared. It was Madame Morrible, the headmistress of Shiz.

“Miss Elphaba, isn’t it?” she recognised her newest staff, not that it was difficult to forget someone with skin colour like hers.

“Yes, Madame Morrible. Good morning, Madame. May I know if there are some thread and needle that I may borrow? I had a fall yesterday and there’s a hole in my coat.”

“A fall?” the schoolmistress almost tsked in her reply. “That’s quite unfortunate, Miss Elphaba. I hope that you’re not injured,” she added, though she sounded as if she did not care either way. Elphaba assured the headmistress that she was fine, and the woman took out a sewing kit from one of the drawers, but most the threads inside were brightly coloured, and Elphaba had no choice but to choose among them. She ended up with a spool of pink thread, which she hoped was light enough not to be seen. 

Elphaba went back to the room and spent the better part of the morning mending her coat, trying hard not to let the pink showed. When that was done, she went to the library with the book that she had finished reading, and the book with the pages that were still crumpled even after airing overnight. She stepped up to the librarian at the main counter. Madame Rosa was on duty. She was a matronly woman, her glasses hanging from her neck and perched on her ample bosom.

Elphaba put the book on the counter. “I’m sorry Madame Rosa, but I dropped the book in the snow.”

The librarian put on her glasses, took a look at the ruined book and shook her head. Elphaba’s heart sank. Would she be banned from borrowing books in the future?

“I’m afraid you’ll have to pay for this, Miss. Now, where’s my accounts book?” She asked herself.

The librarian looked around, on the table, in the drawers and even the floor, but she was unable to find the book that tracked all library-related payments. She noted down the fine on a piece of paper instead and collected the money from the green girl.

“Try not to destroy another book, Miss. It’s not that easy to get some of our books replaced.”

Elphaba nodded. She hoped that it would be the first and last time she damaged any book.

Doctor Dillamond had given her the morning off, and Elphaba made her way to the reference section on the top floor. If the library was ever described as quiet, the reference book section would be described as silent as a tomb. There was only one staff on the whole floor, located near to the staircase to ensure that no one could remove any of the reference books from the library.

She chose a table next to the window for the natural light and put her bag down. 

The reference section was big, and as this was her first time, she spent the first hour moving among the shelves, trying to get a feel on how the books were shelved and the kind of the books available. A few books caught her eyes, and she pulled them off the shelves, unable to decide which one to read first.

By the time she finished walking through the shelves, she had five books in her arms. She carried them back to the table, and Madam Rosa appeared just as she put the books down.

She was holding a notebook and some money in her hand.

“Here’s your money, Miss Elphaba,” she said.

Elphaba looked back at her, surprised.

“Why? Do you mean I do not have to pay for the damages?”

Madame Rosa chuckled, shaking her head.

“I’ve found my accounts book,” she explained, flipping her notebook to the latest page, and pointed at the last line. “The book has been paid for.”

Elphaba looked at the record. The title of the book written on that line was the same title as the book that had been ruined. “But this is not my signature,” she pointed out. “Could the payment be for another copy of the same book?”

Madame Rosa shook her head. “We only have one copy for this title. I suppose I’ll have to check with my colleague who recorded this yesterday. Well,” she smiled at the green girl. “Perhaps a good samaritan has decided to pay for the book?”

Elphaba looked at the unknown signature on the book, a frown on her face.


	4. Chapter 4

Elphaba might spend most of her waking hours in Doctor Dillamond's office, but her favourite place on campus was definitely the library. The 4-storey structure was not the best-maintained building in the campus; some of the cold still penetrated the stone walls, but the whole place had a warm cosy feeling about it, lent by the warm lights, wooden floors and dark furniture. There were not that many people in the library, and Elphaba found herself wandering among the shelves whenever she had the time, reading the titles on the spines of the books, marvelling at her good luck of being able to access these materials. Talking was not allowed in the library, and the few students that frequented the place were more interested in getting their projects done than to hurl insults at a green-skinned staff.

The walls of the library were lined with paintings donated by patrons of the University and portraits of the founding fathers of Shiz. The students moved silently in the library, their eyes downcast, never noticing the paintings. But Elphaba loved to look at them. She looked at the stern features of the founding fathers, wondering what had prompted them to set up a university and subsequently granting admission to the ladies. She looked at the paintings and squinted her eyes as she tried to read the descriptions and the names of the artists who had drawn them, envying their talent. Elphaba's favourite was a painting titled The Night Sky, a painting of a town set against a background of low lying hills, swirling clouds and bright nebulous stars. It was rumoured that the painter was mad when he was alive and did not attain fame until after his death. She found herself standing before the painting often, her eyes following the curls and swirls of each stroke, the deep cobalt blue contrasting with the brilliance of the bright yellow stars. She wanted to touch the painting, to trace the swirls with her fingers, like a blind deciphering a message, to feel the texture left behind by the brush, but the painting was hung high up, beyond her reach.

* * *

As the days passed, more and more students came back from their holidays, and so she was not surprised when more than half of the seats were taken when she entered the cafe during lunch. She contemplated coming back later when the crowd was gone, but her stomach protested.

She had barely sat down with her vegetarian pie when the door opened and a familiar face came in. It was the boy who had saved her from the horses. He was alone, dressed in a tailored dark brown coat with black pants and a checkered red and white scarf. Students from a few tables waved at him and he acknowledged them with a smile. He joined one of the tables when he had ordered his food, the girls at the table scrambling to open a space so that he could sit next to them, but he sat next to a boy instead, taking off his coat to reveal a simple off-white shirt opened at the neck.

Sweet Lurline, it was hard not to stare. She never deemed herself as someone who was attracted to beauty, but this boy was beautiful, accentuated by his slight exotic features. And he wore his confidence like a well-fitted shirt, like a scent. He scanned the room, and Elphaba ducked her head. She did not want him to see her and did not want him to know that she was looking at him either. Just then, a girl exclaimed, "What? Pasta with artichoke?"

There was scattered laughter all around the tables.

"Well, inspiration from our resident artichoke, I guess," a boy replied. She looked up, half expecting it to be that boy, but it was someone else. A beefier boy who was seated on another table with his table of friends. His arm was around a girl, most probably the one who had exclaimed, and they were looking at her. Sniggering at her.

Elphaba looked down, ignoring the taunts. This was not the first time that she had been called names. When she was young, the kids in the neighbourhood would call her names. They would gang up together, surround her, showing not the slightest fear of this green girl who was taller than them. They would pull at her dress, or push her to the ground, saying that she was motherless and fatherless. Sometimes they would even call her a witch. Nanny would come, usually too late, and shoo away the other children before pulling her up, calling her a brave girl for not crying. She remembered once when she could take it no more. She pushed the ringleader to the ground, the two fighting in the mud like ruffians and broke the boy's nose. His parents went all the way to her house and demanded an apology. Thank goodness Frex was away on one of his trips. Nanny made her apologized for the incident, and somehow managed to come up with the money required to pay for the medical treatment. The children stayed clear of her after that.

She wondered if she would break someone's nose during her stay in Shiz.

She pushed the thought away, and concentrated on her lunch, ignoring the group of students as they cracked another vegetable joke.

The reference section was empty when she went to the library after lunch. Elphaba was supposed to borrow more books for the doctor, who seemed to devour books in a frenzy, but her heart was not in it. She would not admit it, but the encounter at lunch had left her unsettled. There seemed to be no end to this taunting, and it did not seem to go away even though she was older and a member of the working class. And it seemed that the better-educated and well-to-do were not above such juvenile mocking either. She let out a sigh, and roamed around the walls of the library, looking out of the windows into the sunshine. She stopped in front of a set of folding doors leading to a balcony, feeling a draught. She had always assumed that the doors were locked and had never attempted to open it. But now she found her hand on the handle. She opened the door and stepped outside.

There was a wooden table screwed to the floor, its edges chipped, its surface worn by the elements. The place was empty otherwise. She moved to the parapet, the bricks ending just below her waist. She could see some of the school buildings from where she was, and the colourful roofs of Shiz Town beyond that. There was a strong wind blowing and, without thinking, Elphaba climbed onto the wall and stood up high. She could feel the wind blowing at her hair and ripping at her skirt. She closed her eyes. She could almost imagine that she was flying, just like the dreams that she had.

It felt good.

She felt free.

"So… we'll jump at the count of three?" A voice intruded into her thoughts.

She opened her eyes. And next to her, barely an arm's length away, was the boy. The boy whom she saw at the café. The boy who pushed her from the path of an oncoming carriage. The boy who was concerned one moment and sarcastic the next.

She narrowed at her eyes at him, and his grin became even wider. It was as if he enjoyed infuriating her.

"It's a long way down," he told her.

She looked down. He was right. It had not occurred to her when she stepped onto the ledge that there was nothing to break her fall if she fell.

She shifted her feet back slightly just as another gust of wind came and she wobbled, flailing her arms wildly as she tried to restore her balance.

He reached out and grabbed her arm, steadying her.

She should be grateful really. She really should be. But in her typical foot-in-her-mouth way, she wrenched her hand away and retorted.

"I'm not trying to kill myself."

The boy tucked his hands in the pockets of his coat and rocked on the balls of his feet. He swayed sideways suddenly, a leg dangling in the air, and Elphaba reached for him instinctively. He regained his balance as just quickly, or maybe he did not lose it in the first place, and gave her a quick laugh as he saw the worried look on her face.

"You know," he spoke as he continued to rock on his feet, his eyes looking at the distance. "You don't have to care about what other people say. Some people are just like that. They like to poke fun at others to hide their insecurities. Unless you are killing yourself due to other reasons."

"I'm not trying to kill myself!" Elphaba raised her voice.

"Could have fooled me." The boy chuckled.

He continued.

"In Vinkus, we have a saying. If you save a person, then that person's life belongs to you. So that person is not allowed to kill or harm himself. I have saved you from the horses, so I guess your life belongs to me now. Which means," he paused for effect, the corner of his lips up. "It means that you need my permission before you can jump off this building. Or any building."

"My life… I … I was not trying to kill myself!" she was exasperated.

The boy leapt from the parapet onto the balcony in a graceful arc, landing on his feet without a sound. He turned around to face her, his hand outstretched.

"Then prove it to me. Come down."

There was something in his voice, which was now softer. Something that was a mix of concern and care and even understanding, and Elphaba unconsciously reached for his hand. He held her gently by her fingers, his thumb brushing against her knuckles, and helped her down the ledge as if he was assisting a lady who was getting out of a carriage.

"That's better," he told her when she was safely on the ground.

His eyes were so blue, so beautiful, like a painting with shades of blue and stars, and Elphaba's biting sentence came out soft.

"I was not trying to kill myself."

"And I was not trying to save you, Miss Elphaba."

"How did you know my name?" she asked. She did not remember introducing herself.

"Did I get it wrong?" the slightly mocking tone was there again.

"No."

"That's good."

"Remember, your life belongs to me," he reminded her as he turned and made his way to the door. He was gone before she could come up with another retort.


	5. Chapter 5

It happened two days later.

It was Saturday, and the sun was shining brightly and the air was crisp. The workers had been hard at work since morning, clearing the roads and paths of snow.

Elphaba went to one of the cafés for breakfast. A few of the tables were taken, and she sat at a table at a corner after she had ordered her food, away from the rest.

She was eating when someone came over and stood before her.

“Is the seat taken?” a feminine voice asked. She looked up, and before she could say anything, the girl dropped her jaw and her food tray. The tray clattered to the ground, spilling food everywhere, and getting everyone’s attention.

“You’re green!” she exclaimed as she smacked her forehead with her palm, feigning faint as she fell into the arms of her male companion who had stationed strategically behind. There was laughter all around, scattered applause, and the girl stood up and bowed to her audience before turning back to Elphaba with a smirk.

“You must be dreaming if you think that anyone will want to sit with you,” she said. Elphaba recognised her then, she was the same girl who had cracked the artichoke joke two days ago.

“Well, I won’t want to sit with someone like that. You won’t know if she is in her usual green or if she is going to throw up on you,” the boy added as he wrapped his arm around the girl’s shoulder and made their way back to their table.

“Won’t do it even if you pay me,” the girl said, and Elphaba could hear more laughter from their table.

The green girl was about to retort when she remembered the conversation that had taken place a few days ago. She had no idea if this girl was really a mess of insecurities underneath, but the idea that she could be made Elphaba bit her tongue. A group of students came in at that moment, their loud chatter drowning out the other conversations and sounds in the café. Elphaba continued with her meal, and she was almost done when a sudden hush descended on the room and a shadow fell over her.

She ignored the newcomer, assuming that it was another student with a second act, until she heard a soft thud as something solid was placed on the table. She tried to focus on her food, but the dark shape was in her peripheral vision, teasing her, and she sneaked a peek at the object. It was a book, a hardcopy, with a picture of The Night Sky on its cover. She wanted to pull the book to her, to read the title, but she averted her eyes and pretended to be engrossed in her breakfast, even when someone pulled out a chair and sat across the small table. She poked at the pie until she had finished the last morsel, and it was only then that the book was pushed towards her and a familiar voice spoke.

“I hope you’ll like this. It took me a long time to find it.”

She looked up in surprise and found him beaming at her.

“There is a winter fair in town. It just came yesterday, and I heard that there are plenty of things to see. We can go if you are interested.”

Elphaba knew that she must be looking like an idiot, but her brain was unable to come up with a response, any response.

“It’ll be interesting,” he added, sounding totally at ease as if they were acquainted and he was not engaging in what was obviously a one-sided conversation in a café half-filled with students. He grabbed her messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder when there was no reply from the green girl.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” he called over his shoulder.

It was a few seconds before Elphaba reacted. She grabbed her coat, scrambled out of her seat, and turned back again to grab the book before she ran after him. Behind them, the whole cafe was so quiet she could hear a pin drop. 

The boy moved along the corridor, making good speed with his long legs until she finally managed to catch up.

She pulled at the strap of her bag, slowing him down.

“My bag,” she panted, trying to catch her breath.

He turned to face her, his lips quirked up. Without another word, he stepped out of the corridor, making a beeline for the fountain that stood in the middle of the field. With two steps, he stepped onto the structure before wrapping an arm around the bronze shoulder of the statue of the founding father of Shiz that was in the centre of the fountain. He stretched out his other hand and dangled her bag in the air by the strap. 

Above the bubbling water.

She remembered that she had a library book inside.

“My bag.” She looked at him in dismay.

“Say it,” he told her.

She looked at him in confusion.

“Say you’ll go to the fair.”

“My bag.”

“Say it.”

“My…”

He raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll go.” Her heart in her mouth.

He smiled and brought the bag in, slinging it across his shoulders as he hopped off the fountain.

“Let’s go then. Time and tide wait for no man!” he said as he broke into a run.

“You’re unreasonable,” Elphaba shouted when she finally managed to collect her thoughts, as she tried hard to catch up with him.

He turned back, a grin on his face.

“I’m not Unreasonable. I’m Fiyero.” There was something familiar about the name, but Elphaba could not, for the life of her, remember why.

He led the way out of the buildings, to the main road, and flagged down a cab that passed by and opened the door for her, gesturing with his hand for her to get in.

She hesitated. She knew nothing about him. He could be a psychopath for all she knew. Imagine, coming all the way to Shiz, avoid being trampled to death by a pair of horses, only to be murdered in cold blood by a handsome stranger.

Handsome. Oz, what was she thinking? Someone took her bag and all she could think of was how good looking he was? But she got into the carriage nonetheless. Faith. Adrenalin. Whatever.

She sneaked a glance at him when they set off and found him looking back at her, his arms crossed, an amused smile on his face. She blushed and looked out of the window, looking at the buildings and the people as the carriage picked up speed.

But there was only so much people watching Elphaba could do before the silence became unbearable.

“Why?”

“Why what?” he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

She gestured around her.

“Why are we in a carriage? I don’t like the idea of walking all the way to Town,” he said, pretending not to understand.

“Why me?”

“Why you what?”

“Why do you want to go to Town … with me?” She ended her sentence softer, wondering if it was all a mistake. Perhaps he had mistaken her for someone else, or perhaps he had not meant for her to go with him.

“Why not you?” he teased.

She gave a growl of exasperation and was rewarded with a chuckle.

“I’m bored,” he answered after a while. “And I think you could be interesting,” he added when his first answer only made her more confused.

“I’m not interesting,” she told him, frowning.

“Someone who likes art should not be that boring,” he said, gesturing to the book that was on her lap. She only remembered the book then and handed it to him, only to see him put it into her bag. 

“I’ve told you that it’s for you,” he said as he looked out of the window, watching as the colourful roofs of the shophouses in Shiz Town loomed larger. “We’ll be there soon.”

It was supposed to be a simple day. She was supposed to find a quiet spot and spent the rest of the day reading her library book.

But there she was, following the boy who had “kidnapped” her bag, her bag which looked smaller than it actually was when it was slung across his broad chest. She had never been to a fair like this. There were so many things to see. Fiyero explained the general setup to her, how the merchants from the different parts of Oz liked to group their stalls together. The Quadlings were easily identified by their red umbrellas. The Gillinkinese liked their umbrellas purple, the Munchkins were, more often than not, found under blue umbrellas while the Vinkuns hawked their wares under yellow ones. He showed her some of the things sold by the different stalls, took part in an interesting bargaining session and warned her about the stalls which were selling dubious goods or products of inferior quality. He let her roam around on her own sometimes, but was always somewhere nearby, giving his comments on the merchandise that she looked at. When she was done at one stall, he would place his hand gently below her elbow and guide her to another stall, eager to show her something that he had discovered. Some of the stall owners stared at her skin but Fiyero would always step in, chatting with them in his easygoing manner and putting them at ease. The conversations usually ended with laughter and well wishes, even if they did not buy anything. She could not help but admit to herself that she was enjoying herself, with him.

No, not with him, at the fair, she corrected herself as she cast another glance at the boy who was making payment for yet another item, displaying the kind of confidence that had always eluded her, a smile on his face as he thanked the merchant and wished him a good day. Just one of the many glances that she had given him that day.

Fiyero seemed to favour the stalls ran by the Gillikinese and the Vinkuns, the former for their variety and quality, and the latter for their hand-made products. He stopped at a Vinkun stall selling hand-made stationery. The owner seemed to know him and the two bantered in a language unknown to Elphaba. Fiyero pointed at her as he tried to get a point across and the owner laughed. The older man said something and took out a square sheet of pink paper festooned with petals and a thin stick, and the boy made a face before he gamely took over the items.

He gave Elphaba a wink before he started to work on the paper. A crowd of people soon began to gather, curious as to what he was doing. He folded and unfolded the paper multiple times, looking as if he had no idea what he was doing to the untrained eyes, until a shape began to form. He then took the stick and curled the edges of the paper before presenting the final product to Elphaba – it was a paper rose, newly bloomed, petals on its petals. The crowd whispered their surprises, and Elphaba blushed. As they left the stall, the group of onlookers moved in, gathering around the stall and looking at its goods.

“It helps with the business,” Fiyero explained. “Works all the time.”

“You spoke to him in another language,” she asked, curious, the paper rose cradled gently in her hand. “What language is that?”

“It’s Arjiki. It’s a Vinkun dialect.”

He looked behind her, his eyes caught by something else, and before she could say anything, he pulled her with him, leading her to a stall selling winter wear. He took a folded black coat off the table, giving it a shake so that the coat dropped to reveal its full length.

“Try this.”

“No,” she protested, but he had moved behind her by then and was tugging at her jacket and pulling it off. 

“You need a new coat,” he said.

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” he insisted. “Your coat is too thin for Gillikinese winter. You will fall sick in no time. The infirmary at Shiz sucks and their medicine tastes awful. And it’s not going to last long with this hole.” He poked a finger into the hole at the side of her coat, its thread already unravelling.

“How did you know? About the hole?”

He chuckled at the astonished expression on her face. “What’s that Gillikinese phrase? ‘A little bird told me’?” 

She tried on the coat reluctantly, and he adjusted the collar and looked at her with a critical eye before he grabbed a red scarf off a rack and wound it around her neck, covering her mouth.

“Looks good,” he commented. “I’ll get these,” he told the stall owner as he fished out some money from his pocket and passed it across the counter. He turned, just in time to see Elphaba struggling out of the coat.

“No,” he whispered fiercely as he pulled the lapels close together. She looked at him in surprise, suddenly aware of how close he was to her. She could see the streaks in his eyes, the way his long eyelashes almost swiped at his cheeks when he blinked, the faint mark of a scar just below his left eye. He seemed to realise that too, and he froze for a moment. Just as quickly, he took a step back and his trademark smile returned as he ran his hand across her forehead. 

“It won’t be good if you fall sick during your first winter in Shiz,” he teased her. He moved away and disappeared into the crowd, and Elphaba followed, feeling silly. 

They slowed down as they approached a tent. The sides of the tent were painted in stripes of black, green and white. Fiyero looked at the small signboard at the front of the tent, his head cocked to the side as he listened to the giggles and titters coming from inside.

“Interested to get your fortune told, Miss Elphaba?” he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I don’t believe in fortune-telling,” she scoffed.

“Really? You’re not interested to know if you will be getting a pay raise soon or if you’ll marry the richest man in Oz?” he teased her gently.

Someone let out a shriek at that moment, and Elphaba turned to the tent. There were streaks of paint running down the sides of the fabric as if the tent itself was alive and had cried for the loss of its loved ones. The air around the tent seemed to darken and sides of the tent billowed in the air as if it was trying to draw her in. She shook her head, trying to suppress a shudder as she took another glance at the crying tent. 

Just then, the opening to the tent flap opened and two girls ran out, giggling and holding onto each other. Their chatter filled the air, exclaiming over the secrets that the fortuneteller had revealed, secrets that no one should know. The inside of the tent was dim, but Elphaba could see that there was an old lady inside, shoulder scrunched, her milky grey eyes looking at her as if she had known that the green girl was outside. 

Fiyero said something but she did not hear it.

The old lady’s lips widened into a smile. A hand came up, fingers curled, beckoning her inside. 

Memories from long ago tugged at her. There was something familiar about that gesture, like a dream that she could not recall after waking, like the scent from burning incense that would dissipate before long. The surrounding people and sounds seemed to fade, and there was nothing but the old lady’s smile, her claw-like hand.

She bolted.

She had no idea how he managed to find her, but he did. She had fled without looking, without thinking, her mind a total blank, the faces around her a blur, and she found herself at a part of Town she was not familiar with. She leaned against a brick wall, her palms sweaty as she tried to draw breaths into her lungs. She blinked to clear her vision and looked at her surroundings. She was trying to figure out which direction would lead her back to Shiz without cutting through the fair when he appeared with a smile on his face, the red scarf in his hand. Her hands went to her neck, and it was only then that she realised that she had dropped the newly-paid scarf in haste.

She expected him to question her, to laugh at how skittish she was when he found out that she was scared of an old lady who made her living embellishing lies, but all he did was to wrap the scarf around her neck before securing it with a loose knot, the smile not leaving his face. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, reaching for her fingers. “I know just the right place for lunch.”

He brought her to a restaurant nearby and she was glad that they did not have to go near to the fair again. She shuddered when she thought of the old lady’s milky eyes, her grip on Fiyero’s fingers tightening involuntarily, and he squeezed her fingers in return as he gave her a reassuring smile. It was past lunch hour and the crowd had left, and Fiyero led her to a table for two inside the restaurant; it was simply too cold to sit outside. A waitress appeared with two menus, and Elphaba’s eyes grew wide when she saw the prices. She put down the menu, and Fiyero looked up.

“What is it? Nothing to your fancy?”

“Our chef can prepare almost anything so long that he has the ingredients, Miss,” the waitress offered.

She looked at the waitress, her hand poised to take down her special order.

“I’m not hungry,” she mumbled as she smoothed her dress with her hands.

Fiyero lifted an eyebrow but proceeded to order his lunch. When the soup was served, he scooped the piping hot liquid with a spoon and leaned across the table.

“Say ahh,” he made a sound with his mouth slightly open.

He grinned at her confused expression. “Isn’t that why you did not order anything? Because you wanted me to feed you?”

“Of course not!” she spluttered, mortified. But she could feel her face turning hot, and the wicked grin across the table told her that her face had turned red too.

He put the spoon into his mouth instead, his eyes not leaving her.

“Excuse me, Miss,” he signalled to the waitress. “She’s ready to order.”

Elphaba ordered the cheapest vegetarian item on the menu and protested when Fiyero offered to foot the bill.

“Do you know what kind of damage it will do to my reputation if anyone found out that I have brought a girl to a restaurant and then split the bill with her?”

“Your reputation?”

“Yes, my reputation. A guy got to maintain his reputation, you know. Sometimes that’s all that he has. What would the other girls think if they found out that you have to pay for your share? This may not be a date, but a gentleman’s a gentleman, and a lady is still a lady even when it is not a date.”

“Is that what you only think about? Your reputation?”

“Of course. What else is there?”

She did not know what to say.

It could be due to the afternoon sun, the warm new coat, the lunch, or a combination of all three, but Elphaba did not feel cold when they left the restaurant. She looked around, and that was when she saw two men standing outside a shop, looking at them as they walked past, sniggering. She looked at their hands, Fiyero holding her lightly at her fingertips and she stopped, which made him stop too.

“Anything interesting?” He looked at the shops along the street, wondering which one had caught her eye.

“Aren’t you afraid?” she had to ask. 

It was his turn to look confused.

“Afraid? Afraid of what?”

She pulled her hand away, wriggling her fingers slowly.

“The verdigris. Aren’t you afraid that it is contagious?”

He reached for her wrist and drew four imaginary lines slowly down her upturned palm with his fingers, his eyes intent. His fingers were warm, and the gesture sent a shiver up her arm and down her spine. He turned his palm skywards, fingers splayed, showing her that his fingertips were not stained green. 

“Aren’t you afraid that my skin colour is contagious?” he asked, a sly smile on his face. 

“That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed.

“Then so is the idea that yours is,” he told her.

He took her hand, brushing his thumb against her knuckles before interlacing their fingers.

“There are a lot of things that I am afraid of, Miss Elphaba. I’m afraid of failing the exams, wearing the same clothes as someone else, pimples on my face. But you?” he tapped a finger on her nose. “There’s nothing about you that I’m afraid of.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing that Fiyero folder is paper rose (inspiration from http://www.origami-flower.org/origami-rose-standard.php)


	6. Chapter 6

The sky was dark when Elphaba came out of Doctor Dillamond's laboratory, and she was not surprised to find a familiar figure out there, waiting for her, just as he had every weeknight for the past two weeks. He was walking in a straight line, arms outstretched with a look of intense concentration on his face as he gingerly put one foot before the other, as if he was an acrobat walking on a tightrope. He looked up when he heard her footsteps and beamed at her, lowering his arms.

"I thought that you're never coming out of that rabbit hole," he said as he stepped forward, sliding her messenger bag off her shoulder smoothly and slinging it over his head before giving it a scratch at the place where the strap met the bag, as if he was scratching a rabbit behind its ears.

"That is not a rabbit hole. That is Doctor Dillamond's office," she informed him.

He chuckled at the severity of her tone.

"I was really tempted to knock on the door," he admitted. "Just in case you have left early."

"But you didn't."

"I still owe him an assignment from last semester," he deadpanned, and Elphaba had no idea if he was joking.

"Come on," he said as he grabbed her hand. "Let's go before the cafes in town close for the day."

"Town again?" She felt bad, as Fiyero was always the one paying, but he had insisted. He was sick of eating the same food on campus every day.

He must have heard something in her voice, for he stopped and turned to her.

"Alright, how about if you treat me tomorrow?" he suggested. He added when he saw the confusion on her face. "And I guess," he tapped on his chin. "that whoever who's treating get to choose the place, even if it is terrible campus food." He grimaced.

Elphaba laughed at the way he phrased it, as if he was caught in a helpless situation.

"Deal. And campus food isn't that bad."

"You've just been here for two months, Elphaba. We'll see if you still think the same six months down the road."

Tomorrow. They would be meeting again tomorrow. Elphaba could not help but smile.

This time, Fiyero chose a Munchkinlander hot pot restaurant. There were a few groups of customers, and Fiyero requested a corner table and asked for a vegetarian soup base. There was a charcoal stove in the middle of the table which was lit up immediately, and it reminded Elphaba of a small fireplace until the waiter set a hot pot filled with steaming soup on it.

Fiyero ordered a list of items off the menu, all vegetarian.

"No meat?" Elphaba was surprised.

"I'll go vegetarian with you. For today. You're vegetarian, aren't you?" He rested his chin on his interlaced fingers, a lazy smile on his face.

"How did you know?" Was it that obvious?

"We have been dining together for the past two weeks, Miss Elphaba. So why are you vegetarian?" he asked, interested.

Elphaba wondered how much she should tell him. That meat was a luxury where she came from. That she would not order meat even if she was not vegetarian because meat was expensive. That she had no idea if any of the meat sold came from an animal or Animal. She was saved from answering when the waiter came back with a tray of small plates, filled with the food that Fiyero had ordered – lettuce, carrot, broccoli, spinach, asparagus, collard greens, corn, potato and different types of mushrooms.

"No artichoke." She noted, wondering if he had avoided the food because of all the artichoke jokes on campus.

Fiyero shook his head. "I hate it. Hate it since young. I do eat almost everything else, so I'm not a fussy eater."

"So tell me about the history of hot pot," he said as he put the non-leafy vegetables into the boiling water before adding the rest, stirring the soup gently with a pair of chopsticks.

"What makes you think that I will know the history of hot pot?"

"Because you're Munchkinlander and you know everything," was his answer. "You absorb knowledge like a sponge. Oz, if you were a student in Shiz, you'll be the top student every year."

"No, I won't," she protested lightly.

"History of hot pot, Madam?" he prompted again, grinning like an eager student.

"Alright, alright." She put up a hand. "Hot pot has a history in the farmlands of Munchkinland if I'm not wrong. Many of the Munchkinlanders are agricultural farmers, and they have their own land for farming. They will sell most of the vegetables that they have grown and left some, most probably those that are bruised or worm-bitten, for themselves. Food can be scarce sometimes, and the Munchkinland winter can be very cold. So what could be better than to have hot pot for dinner where everyone can crowd around after a hard day's work and enjoy some hot piping vegetable soup made from the vegetables that they had grown in their own backyard and maybe with some meat? It warms the bodies and heats up the house at the same time."

Fiyero smiled at her explanation. "I got a confession to make," he told her.

"What is it?"

"This is the third hot pot that I have in my whole life," he replied with a grin.

Elphaba could not help but laugh.

"This is my first," she admitted, and Fiyero chuckled.

"But you're right. There's something cosy about huddling around a hot steaming pot of soup," he said as he inched closer to her and loaded her bowl with vegetables.

"You know, I am not really looking forward to term start," Fiyero said when they had finished almost everything.

"Why?"

"Studies. Homework. Projects." He made a face. "I really like now, you know, waking up late, lazing the day away, having dinner in town every night…"

"Isn't it good to learn new things?"

"By attending lessons?" He shook his head. "What's so fun about sitting for hours on end listening to someone drone on and on? I would rather be outside. I go crazy when I have to sit in lectures. It is boring. Studying is boring. Doing homework is boring. There are many other better ways for me to spend my time."

"But don't you enjoy it when you learn new things in class?"

"They're boring. I'm not you. On the other hand, if you were teaching I might listen."

"Me?"

"Yes, you're interesting. You make things sound interesting."

"Me? I don't think so."

Fiyero chuckled and fell silent for a while. His voice was subdued when he spoke again. "You know, I'd have dropped out long ago if it's not for my parents. My father threatened to disown me if I fail, though that might not be such a bad idea."

"I'm sure they have your wellbeing at heart, Fiyero. Nanny always said that getting an education is the best way to get ahead, to break the poverty circle."

"My father only wants the privilege to tell everyone that his son is studying in one of the best universities in Oz."

"I'm sure it's more than that."

"So," he changed the topic, "I don't suppose you come from a family of farmers?"

"What makes you think so?"

"Because you've never had hot pot before?" he reminded her on her earlier confession, smiling. She chuckled.

"Nanny had a small garden in the backyard, but she'd usually cook one of two dishes. She's not fond of soup."

"One or two small dishes. Why, is the entire family on diet?" he teased her, his fingers forming a small oval shape.

Elphaba gave a sad smile. "There's only two of us."

"I'm sorry," he apologised immediately, his hand gentle on her arm.

Elphaba shook her head. There was nothing to apologise for. "It happened many years ago. I was very young then. My mommy was pregnant with my little sister, and towards the end, she was very weak. Nanny had been taking care of me all those while, and when my mother passed away, she just stayed on and continued to take care of me while my father travelled all over Oz spreading the words of the Unnamed God."

"So do you remember your mother?" he asked.

Elphaba shook her head again. "Nanny told me stories about her, but after I have grown up, I just wonder if those stories are real or if she made them up, if my fuzzy memories of her are real or implanted."

"What kind of memories?"

"Memories of my mother holding parties, singing to me while she was carrying me, playing catching in the garden…"

She suddenly remembered something.

"There was this story that Nanny had mentioned several times. She said that when my mother was pregnant with my sister, a fortune teller appeared and predicted that the baby that she was carrying will be a girl. But anyone has a fifty per cent chance of getting the gender of a baby right."

Fiyero laughed. "You don't believe in fortune-telling."

Elphabe shook her head. "Our fate is in our hands. How can someone know what is going to happen in the future just by reading the lines on a palm or the tea leaves in a cup? Nanny and Mommy are firm believers though. Though sometimes I do wonder if my mother will still be alive if she is not."

"Why did you say that?"

"According to Nanny, the fortune-teller also foretold the futures of my sister and me. That one of us would cause her death. My mother clung onto the prediction, and when she was closer to her due date, she got weaker and weaker and was eventually confined to bed, too weak to even get out. Who's to say that it was the birth of my sister that killed her or her belief that she would not live past it?"

Fiyero put a carrot into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, remembering her dislike of fortune tellers.

"So what did the fortune teller say about you?"

Elphaba shook her head.

"I don't know. I was there, according to Nanny, but I could not remember anything." She shivered for no reason. "Nanny was not around when it happened, and my mother refused to talk about it after that. Anyway, I don't need to know. There's no way anyone can see the future."

* * *

It had started to snow lightly by the time they went back to Shiz. The lights were still on, but some of them had extinguished, casting shadows at the surroundings. It was later than usual, almost curfew time, and Fiyero offered to walk her back to the dormitory but Elphaba declined.

"It's dangerous for a girl to walk on her own with half the lights out. There's danger lurking around."

"There's no such thing as monsters," she said.

"I'm not referring to monster monsters. I mean human monsters. People with bad intentions. The city people are so used to having their surroundings brightly lit for safety that somehow just its absence will bring out their ill intents."

"That's deep, coming from you."

"Must have been the recent company that I've been keeping." He tried to wave it off. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine. I can take care of myself."

"Alright then," he said, and she was surprised that he let it go so easily. "I think I will go for a walk. I need to burn some of that dinner off." He waved goodbye before he walked away.

Elphaba made her way slowly back to her dormitory. She turned and looked back once, but Fiyero was nowhere to be seen. She smiled to herself and tucked her hands into the pockets of her new coat. It was strange how he just suddenly barged into her life. Everything was now about him. Her time after office hours were usually spent with him, her meals were taken with him, her coat was bought by him. And they had so many conversations, on so many different topics, about nothing in particular, as if he had been devoid of companionship for a long time and was making up for lost time. She was deep in her thoughts when she suddenly heard footsteps behind her. She turned and saw Fiyero approaching, a grin on his face. He quickened his pace and caught up easily.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," he said as if they had not parted less than five minutes ago.

"I thought…," she smattered. "I thought you were going for a walk."

"Yes, I was walking and admiring the scenery when I found myself on this path. It's such a coincidence, isn't it?" His grin grew wider.

Elphaba rolled her eyes.

He walked her back to the dormitory. There was no one outside but they could hear the sounds inside as the few girls who had already returned to Shiz prepared to go to bed.

"Thank you, Fiyero, and goodnight," she said.

"Wait!" he said just as she was about to open the door. She turned back.

"There's snow on you. You wouldn't want to get the carpet wet in winter, it takes forever to dry," he said as he swept the snow off the shoulders and hood of her coat. It seemed to take a long time, as Fiyero went over the same area over and over again. And when it was finally done, he said goodnight, but he did not move away. Instead, he tipped her chin up. Elphaba shivered, not because of the cold, but because of the way he was looking at her, his eyes intense. His eyes went to her lips, and Fiyero tilted his head slightly as he leaned in.

"There's something on your face," he said softly, his voice husky, so close that she could feel the warmth from his breath, and he brushed his thumb against the skin at the corner of her mouth. His eyes went to her eyes, and back to her lips again.

"Goodnight, Fiyero," she mumbled, the words tumbling out, and she quickly entered the building without waiting for him to say goodnight again. She closed the door behind her, her back to the door. She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to catch her breath, as she tried to calm her hammering heart, as she willed her hands to stop trembling. The part where he had touched seemed to burn, as if he had branded her with his touch.

* * *

She noticed the way the other students stared at her when they were together. The boys would come up to him and talk to him or shout boisterously across the distance like what boys usually did, but they would ignore her. The girls, on the other hand, liked to hang around the peripheral of her vision. They would call out to him, batting their eyelids and smiling coquettishly whenever he turned their way, and giggled when he complimented them on their shiny hair, their beautiful dresses, their perfect makeup, and Elphaba would sometimes wish that there was something about her that Fiyero could compliment on. But they would stare at her. Stared at this strange newcomer with her green skin and long black hair who was now constantly accompanied by the boy called Fiyero who was seemingly oblivious to those stares.

"They like you," she commented once.

"Who?"

"Everyone. They all know you. They all want to talk to you. You're popular. Very popular if I'm not wrong."

"What's wrong with being popular?" he asked her as they stepped out of the school gate.

She shook her head. No, there was nothing wrong with being popular. Everyone wanted to be popular, or at least, be liked.

Fiyero cocked his head as he looked at her. The nearest lamp was behind him, and its light cast his face into shadow. "It's a two-sided coin. You have a reputation to upkeep, people to entertain even if you don't like them, parties to attend even if you are tired, smile until your jaw hurts, but it has its benefits." She got a feeling that he had never said this to anyone before. "People go all the way to be nice to you, to stay on your good side. They think twice before they dare to cross you." She remembered just then how the taunting and vegetable jokes had almost ceased since Fiyero had befriended her. Some of the students had even smiled at her when they saw her.

He removed his hand from his pocket and reached for her, and Elphaba suddenly realised that he would never do that if there were other students around. It was as if there were two sides to him, a day and a night, just like there were two sides to being popular. Day-Fiyero was always smiling, suave, witty and charismatic, and was always at the centre of everyone's attention, while night-Fiyero would only appear when there was no one else, who seemed to have a lot in his mind, and whose smile would not reach his eyes sometimes, and the two sides would never meet. And she was on the side that was night, in the shadows, in the dark, and he would show her the things that he would never show his friends from the dayside, share with her the thoughts that he would never share with his other friends.

"Come on, I'm starving and I'll faint if I don't get any food soon." His usual teasing smile came back, and it was as if the earlier conversation had not taken place.

She took his hand.

* * *

He stood under a tree, leaning against its truck, hidden in the shadows. He had missed their dinner appointment yesterday. As he stood waiting, he wondered if he should walk away before the door to Doctor Dillamond's office opened.

He had spent three weeks with this strange girl, had dinner with her every weeknight. He knew so much about her now. Her family, her life, her beliefs. He knew who her favourite authors are, her favourite subjects, what made her tick, what made her smile, what made her frown, and what made her laugh. He knew that any topic on family and friends would draw a wistful look from her eyes. He knew that the kindness that she had shown the first time they met was not an act - they had searched for the ducklings on one of the evenings and he noticed how the sadness crept into her eyes when she realised that one of them was hardly moving and would most probably die soon. She had remained subdued the rest of night, and nothing, not his jokes nor an ice cream treat was able to cheer her up.

But she knew nothing about him. She did not know who he was, she did not know anything about his friends, his likes and dislikes. Nothing.

Galinda would be coming back in a week's time, followed by Avaric. School would be starting soon, and he would be busy with his studies and everything else. She had been good company, but her companionship was no longer needed.

He supposed that they would meet each other along the corridors sometimes. Perhaps they would go for a meal again or maybe he would use his busy schedule as an excuse. A smart girl like her would understand that whatever they had was fleeting. She would most probably continue to have her meals alone, but then he had no doubt that she would be able to fall back into her previous routine easily.

He told himself that he really should leave before she came out of Doctor Dillamond's office. He had no idea how he would explain his absence yesterday, and he knew that she would ask, simply because she cared. He told himself that he would go if the door did not open within the next five seconds.

The door remained closed.

* * *

Her eyes strayed to the spot where he would usually be. He was not there, and she tried not to let out a sigh. He had not turned up yesterday, and she had waited for him for ten minutes, twenty minutes, before she realized that he would not be turning up. And now, her dinner companion for the past few weeks was not there for the second consecutive evening.

She reminded herself that he was not obliged to meet her for dinner; he had never promised her that he would meet her for dinner every weeknight. But she could not help but felt her heart sank.

She pulled at the strap of her bag and pursed her lips before she turned away.

"Hey," one of the nearby trees called out.

No, not one of the trees. It was him, leaning against the tree, hidden in its shadows.

She did not move, and it took him a while before he straightened and made his way over. Elphaba noticed that he had a new jacket on. It was shorter in length, emphasizing his wide shoulders and broad chest. The fitting pants and knee-high boots that he wore made his long legs looked even longer than before.

"You definitely have problems with your night vision," he teased her when he was close enough, before she had a chance to ask the question that was in her mind. "I bet that I'd be able to see you if you were the one under that tree."

He watched her as she chewed on her lower lip, and he knew what she was thinking. "Come," he told her. "I need to go to Town today. It's time to accept the inevitable and start buying textbooks."

He brought her to a bookstore after dinner, buying the books and stationery that were needed for the new semester. Fiyero had not finalized the list of modules that he would be taking since the students were allowed to make changes to their subject combination even after term start, but he knew that he would be taking Political Science II, and he bought the textbook for that subject, along with some writing paper and pen.

"Don't laugh at me if I sign up for one of Doctor Dillamond's class," he warned her as he went up the cashier.

"Why would I?"

"Because you will be assisting Doctor Dillamond. You will be marking the assessments for him."

"I won't. Doctor Dillamond said that he marks all his students' work so that he can be aware of their proficiency."

"That's good else you will be seeing the mistakes that I made. You will finally realise that I was not joking when I said that I am terrible in my studies."

"I wouldn't laugh, I swear." She raised her fingers. "There's nothing to laugh about. Everyone has a different learning curve. The most important thing is that you are willing to learn."

"Really? Even someone like me?" he asked as he paid for his items.

Elphaba looked at him, the corner of her lips upturned. "Well, the first thing is to know that you need help, so I guess that there's hope for you yet."

* * *

Elphaba stayed in the lab in the daytime, the only time when she was out was when she grabbed a late lunch for herself and Doctor Dillamond or if she had to run some errands for the Goat.

She was thinking about Fiyero while walking to her usual café (the one with the cheapest food), wondering if he would continue to meet her for dinner when school started when she saw him. He was at the intersecting corridor with a girl, a pretty brunette with hair reaching her waist and who was wearing a short dress with knee-high boots, and he did not see her. As Elphaba watched, the girl said something that she could not hear, and Fiyero laughed before he rested a hand on the wall next to her, the smile not leaving his face. Elphaba wondered if she would ever have the ability to make him laugh so easily. She pushed the thought away.

She knew that she should walk away, but instead she took a few steps closer, just when the girl placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned closer to him.

"So I've heard that you have been keeping the artichoke company. So what's the deal, Your Highness?"

Fiyero laughed carelessly.

"I'm just playing host to a stranger in Shiz. Why, without me, she would not have known any place outside of Doctor Dillamond's lab even if she worked here for fifty years! And what's the harm in knowing the Goat's assistant? I'm thinking of taking another module from Doctor D and I think she could be of great help."

The girl giggled. "Oh, you're so smart, my prince."

Elphaba lost her appetite.

* * *

She stayed in Doctor Dillamond's lab, working till nightfall. She knew Doctor Dillamond's schedule; he would never leave his lab until midnight and, for tonight, she was in no mood to leave either. She knew that he would be outside, waiting for her – he had agreed that they would have dinner at one of the on-campus cafes that night. Oz, she had never felt so stupid. Of course, he was not interested in her as a person. He had all the friends that he wanted. And he must be laughing at her for not knowing that he was actually royalty. The name should have tipped her off, but she had always assumed that he was one of those whose parents liked to name their children after princes and kings. And she was stupid enough to believe that he had enjoyed her company when all he wanted was easy access to the Goat's exam papers.

How could he like to be with her? She talked endlessly about books that she had read, sponged off him and argued too much. She was no eye candy, and could not flirt to save her life. She should have known that he had an ulterior motive in mind. But he had been so kind, so nice, and seemingly so genuine.

"Miss Elphaba, look at the time! Why are you still here?" Doctor Dillamond broke into her thoughts.

"I still have things to do, Doctor."

"Leave them here. Work can never be done. Go enjoy the rest of the night. Aren't you going out with your friend?"

Elphaba looked at him in surprise. "Friend?"

"Yes. I've been hearing conversations outside the door every evening. That was you and your – " a rapid set of knocks interrupted his speech. "Well, that must be your friend." The Goat looked at her kindly over the rim of his glasses. "Come in," he called out before Elphaba could tell him that she had no friend.

The door swung open, and Fiyero stepped in.

"Hi," he smiled at the sight of her, his smile broadening as if he was happy to see her. Genuinely happy. He turned to the professor. "Good evening, Doctor Dillamond."

"It's Master Fiyero, isn't it?"

"Yes, Doctor," Fiyero replied. "I'm here for .."

"We're busy," Elphaba told him bluntly and was glad to see the astonished look on his face.

"No, we're not. Miss Elphaba, I'm sure you're hungry. Don't keep Master Fiyero waiting."

"But I – " she stopped when Fiyero gently placed a hand under her elbow.

"Thank you, Doctor!" Fiyero shouted as he pulled Elphaba out of the lab.

"Well, you might not be hungry, but I'm starving," he said the moment they left the office. Elphaba wrenched her hand away.

"Then, by all means, go ahead, Your Highness." There was something sarcastic in her voice, the boiling over of the anger that had been seething underneath the whole day, and he stopped in his tracks.

"Elphaba… wait." He caught the way she had addressed him. "I can explain. I didn't intentionally hide my identity from you. The topic just didn't come up. And does it really matter if I am a prince or if I am just a commoner? Will you treat me differently? Or will you shun me just because I have a fanciful title?"

"So have you decided if you're taking Doctor Dillamond's module next year? If you're not, then I guess you can stop with the pretence."

"What are you talking about?" He looked so bewildered that, for a moment, Elphaba wondered if she had made a mistake, if she had misinterpreted the conversation that she had overheard earlier. She bit her lip.

"Isn't that why you befriended me? Because I am Doctor Dillamond's assistant? Because you might take his module next semester and you need help in accessing the exam questions? Or does your plan include asking me to filch from the other professors too? Fiyero, I know you don't like to study, but I didn't expect this. How can you think of going through life like this? Just because you are a prince does not mean that you are entitled to … Oz… I'm so stupid, I've been so gullible. How can I not realise… " she waved her hands in frustration, unable to articulate any further.

"Elphaba, I … " Fiyero tried to explain, and then stopped. He had previously told her that he had befriended her because he was bored with the usual company, but it seemed that it was not a good time to remind her about it.

But was that still the case? She was interesting. She was real, hundred per cent truthful and genuine and she never hid her thoughts. Unlike the other people that he knew, she just expressed whatever that was in her mind, she did not care what other people think of her looks and her clothing and that was so refreshing. He loved to antagonise her, to shock her sometimes with his outrageous statements and watched the way her jaw dropped. He loved the way she smiled, the way she laughed at his little jokes because she really found them funny, the way she furrowed her brows when she was thinking with no thought about the wrinkles that would form, the way she rolled her eyes with that little tilt of her mouth. The way she treated him like a real human, prince or no prince.

"Elphaba…I'm sure there has been a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding? Playing host to me because I'll never get out of my own in fifty years?" Under the lights, she saw his eyes widened when he realised that she had overheard his conversation with the girl.

"Stop pretending, Master Fiyero, because I will never steal any paper for you!" With that, the green girl stomped away.

* * *

Galinda returned two days later. Oz, he should be glad that she was finally back. After the quarrel with Elphaba (if something so one-sided could be considered as a quarrel), he was just not in the mood for anything. For once, he was unable to find the words, unable to decide what to do. Should he deny that he had said those words to please another girl? Should he not care that she was mad, no, upset at him? What should he do? Tell her the truth? Or fabricate another story that she would see through within seconds?

He could not make up his mind and so he postponed his decision by staying in, letting himself go hungry, and then eating whatever snacks or sweets he could find in his room.

His thoughts went back to her again. He wondered if she was still mad at him. He wondered why he was so concerned about how she felt, how he had made her feel. An image of her was etched in his mind – the look on her face before she stomped away, with her teeth clenched and her red-rimmed eyes. He wanted to have dinner with her again, to talk to her again. He lay on his bed, an arm across his forehead, feeling dizzy with so many thoughts running around in his mind.

Maybe he should apologise to her immediately. Maybe he should give her a few days for her to cool down. Maybe he should send her a dozen tulips to apologise. Maybe he should send her a dozen books.

He let out a frustrated breath. He turned to his side and looked at his clock, knowing that only a few seconds had passed. But his eyes caught the pink pen on the table and it reminded him that Galinda should be arriving soon – her train was supposed to reach Shiz Station around noon. She was not expecting him to meet her at the train station, but perhaps he should surprise her. He grabbed his jacket and got out of his room. Galinda would cheer him up, like how she always did.

* * *

It seemed that the more she tried to avoid him, the more she would see him. Doctor Dillamond had asked her to pick up his mail from the administrative officer; he was expecting a letter from his family.

She saw him at the foot of the slope, next to a road, getting out of a cab that was loaded with far too many pieces of luggage. He turned back and reached out a hand, helping a girl out of the vehicle. The girl was dressed in a tailored pearl-white dress with a V-shape collar. Her skirt ended above her knees, and she was clad in a pair of white heels. There was a matching hat on her head, and it blocked Elphaba's view of the girl's face at first. And then she lifted her head and laughed at something that Fiyero said, a hand to her lips. She was beautiful, all flawless skin, rosy cheeks and golden hair that swept her shoulders. The girl tiptoed and kissed Fiyero on his cheek before she curled her hand around his arm. The two of them walked down the path, laughing at something, oblivious to the girl who was watching them from above.

* * *

"There was so much snow!" Galinda exclaimed as she entered her room, her arm still curled around Fiyero's. "Momsie was happy of course since it meant that I will be staying a bit longer, but I was totally sick of all those little boys badgering me for dates. I was all ready to put myself into a bag if that will get me out of Frottica! I was so glad when the heavy snow finally stopped in the morning and the train station reopened."

"Breaking boys' hearts eh?" Fiyero chuckled.

"It's all their own doing, Fiyero. It has nothing to do with me. I didn't encourage a single one of them. Not a single one." She smoothed her skirt as she sat down on her bed and patted the space next to her. "What about you, Yero?" she asked when he sat down. "Which poor girl's heart have you crushed when I was not around?"

"Me?" He pretended to be shocked. "Why would I do that? I've been a good boy."

"Really?" Galinda's eyebrows rose.

"Really," he promised, hand over his heart, trying not to think of a particular green girl. "I can't help it if any girl breaks her heart for me though. You know how difficult it is to be unattractive." He grinned at his fake modesty.

Galinda giggled, and Fiyero's heart lifted, if only for a little while.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**AN : antonita, Yes ! LOL**

Fiyero walked with his head lowered, his hands in his pockets. As the fresh air cleared some of the throbbing in his head, his footsteps became lighter. 

Thank Oz for small remedies.

Avaric, his partner-in-crime (if drinking and flirting too much could be considered as a crime), had come back the day before, and the two had spent the night at their favourite pub in town, drinking the best wine the place had to offer and discussing every single girl who walked through the door. Avaric was raucous and had flirted outrageously with every girl who swung by their table as if he had stayed in a monastery during the holidays and was deprived of female company. Fiyero had started off subdued, and Avaric had commented on it, and the Arjiki had overcompensated by drinking far too much and making out with a girl with long dark hair and a dress that was begging to be taken off. But the magic had stopped when the girl giggled, and Fiyero’s hands froze in mid-air. He had muttered an apology, the usual speech about respecting her and that he was not going to take advantage of her. And she had bought it, hook, line and sinker.

He had not looked for Elphaba since the day she stomped off, leaving him standing outside Doctor Dillamond’s office like an idiot. If she chose to stay angry with him, then so be it. His best friends were back and school would be starting soon, and that was more than enough to keep him busy. He stopped going to the café that she frequented and he never walked past the professors’ offices again. At the last minute, he decided not to take Doctor Dillamond’s module and replaced it with Financial Accounting instead. 

He was not avoiding anyone. 

Or so he told himself.

* * *

“Oh, Doctor Dillamond!” A sing-song voice called out as the door to Doctor Dillamond’s office swung open.

Elphaba looked up and was surprised to see a petite blonde hop into the room. It was the beautiful girl that she now knew was Fiyero’s girlfriend – she had seen them so often together since the day the girl had returned, the girl always leaning close to the prince when they walked together, her hand on his arm.

The blonde stopped when she saw Elphaba in the room, her mouth a pink O.

“Doctor Dillamond?” As if there was any possibility of the Goat turning into a green girl.

Doctor Dillamond came out of his lab at the same moment, his hoof holding a microscope slide.

“Miss Glinda!”

The girl smiled sweetly at the professor. “Doctor, I’m back! And I’ve brought something for you from Frottica!” She put down the package that she was carrying, and opened the box, revealing the cakes inside. “Your favourite!”

Elphaba rolled her eyes at the way she seemed to punctuate every sentence with an exclamation mark.

But Doctor Dillamond did not seem to be bothered at all. He almost let out a baaa of delight. “Why thank you, Miss Glinda.”

“You’re welcome!” She replied chirpily as she eyed the thing that the doctor was holding. “Oh, Professor, I can see that you’re busy right now. I’ll drop by some other day!” She waved her tiny fingers at the Goat and then turned, nearly bumping into one of the tables.

“Oopsie!”

“Be careful!” Doctor Dillamond called out. He gestured to Elphaba who was closer to the blonde. “Miss Elphaba, can you please see her out?”

Elphaba nodded and guided the girl out of the mess that was Doctor Dillamond’s office. They stepped out of the office, and Elphaba noticed that the sun seemed to shine brighter when the blonde was around. 

Lurline.

“Thank you for the gift, Miss Glinda.” There was nothing else she could say.

“You’re very welcome. And it’s Galinda, with a GAH,” she emphasised, drawing a circle around her mouth with a finger and then gesturing at the door that they had just exited to hint that the Goat was unable to pronounce her name properly due to the shape of his mouth.

“It’s very kind of you,” Elphaba added, not wanting what happened between her and Fiyero affect the way she interacted with his girlfriend, whom Doctor Dillamond seemed to be quite fond of.

She giggled, waving a hand. “Oh, it’s nothing! Doctor Dillamond had been very kind to me! And you’re his new assistant, aren’t you? He has told me before the holidays that he was looking for an assistant and there you are!” She really seemed to love her exclamation marks.

Elphaba nodded.

“What do you do? Do you do his lab work? Do you teach?”

Elphaba shook her head. “I’m not doing his lab work. I just help with some of his research, and the typing.”

“That’s hard work – research. And typing! It’s really bad for the nails!” She lifted her hand, showing off her perfectly manicured fingers. “But I bet you’re good at it. Will you be assisting Doctor Dillamond during class? Will I be seeing you there?”

“Maybe.” Elphaba found herself smiling a little. The girl seemed to have a very infectious personality despite her initial reservations.

“That’s great!” She said exuberantly. “I’ll see you around then. Oh gosh, look at the time!” She lifted her wrist, displaying a pink crystal-studded watch that most probably cost more than a month of Elphaba’s salary. “I’m late for my appointment. I’m meeting Fiyero for dinner,” she added as if everyone was expected to know him. The blonde grasped Elphaba’s hands as if they had been friends for a long time. “I’ll come by again soon!”

* * *

Shiz Town was crowded that evening. It was as if all the students were seized by the same idea to have dinner in town. Fiyero and Avaric moved through the crowd, Galinda between them. They chatted about how they dreaded the new school term and the classes that they would be taking together. The three of them would be taking Advanced Economics, and of course, Fiyero would be taking Political Science II and Financial Accounting.

It was nice to be with friends who were so close they could finish one other’s sentences, to hang around friends who shared his taste. Galinda pulled the two guys into a boutique, splurging on two dresses and matching accessories. The student committee had finalised the date of their annual spring ball, and Galinda was determined to outshine all the other girls on that day.

Out of sheer boredom, Fiyero signed up for an art class that was starting soon and bought a new set of painting materials. He had stopped painting years ago and had no idea where his paintbrushes and paint were; he could not even remember if he had brought them with him when he came to Shiz.

“What are they teaching? Fantasy? Does that mean frolicking with naked babes?” Avaric looked at the information sheet over his shoulder and was rewarded with an elbow to his chest.

Avaric moved back instinctively, rubbing his chest with a wince. “I didn’t know you have developed a taste for men, Your Highness.” Fiyero threatened to hit him again good-naturedly and Galinda giggled. The blonde curled her arm around Fiyero’s and pulled him away before he could inflict any more bodily harm to his friend. 

“I’m hungry, boys.”

Dinner was at Galinda’s favourite restaurant, an Emerald City restaurant famous for its delicious dishes, their tiny portions and even tinier (and expensive) cakes. The trio was hungry after being out in the cold and ordered without much hesitation. Galinda insisted that everyone ordered the scallop soup. The three of them talked and laughed over their food, making comments on the unbelievably small portions which seemed to have become smaller since the last time they came but Fiyero could not help but lost track of the conversation sometimes. He knew that it was not possible, but he looked up every time the door opened, wondering if he would catch a glimpse of green.

* * *

“Hello!” Elphaba heard her voice even before the door opened.

She looked up and was not surprised to see the Gillikinese at the entrance. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Upland.”

“Come on, Elphie, it’s Galinda,” the blonde said, her eyes rolling, imitating the green girl as she stepped into the minefield that was Doctor Dillamond’s office.

“Come on, Galinda, it’s Elphaba,” the green girl replied with a chuckle. The blonde had given her a nickname on her second visit, and it was Elphaba’s responsibility not to let it stick. From her, Elphaba found out that Doctor Dillamond had taught a Foundation Science subject for the first-year students last year (where Galinda got a nasty cut when she handled a microscopic slide), and so most of the students knew him. Galinda had been dropping by often, with reasons ranging from seeking her opinion on clothes (Elphaba told her truthfully that she would be the last person anyone would seek fashion advice from, but the blonde insisted that she needed a fresh pair of eyes), to asking for her prediction on the weather that evening so that she could decide what to wear (and Elphaba told her that she did not have rheumatism and therefore was not able to predict if there would be rain that night) to simply ‘no reason’ at all. 

Galinda had dropped some of her exclamations after the first visit, and Elphaba had to admit that it did make having a conversation with her much more pleasant.

“Elphie, look what I’ve got for you!” The blonde put her bangled hand into the bag and fished around before she took out something that looked like a flimsy piece of cloth at first glance. It was dark blue and sheer, a long-sleeve cardigan that reached her hips as Galinda placed the fabric against the taller girl. “I’m sure that no one has told you about our strange summers. Even though the weather is usually quite warm, there are times when it can be chilly. This will look good on you. It’s just the right cutting to emphasis your slim build.”

It reminded Elphaba so much of the time when Fiyero bought the coat for her that she took a step back subconsciously.

“You don’t like it?” Galinda misinterpreted her body language.

Elphaba shook her head. “No, I … Galinda, you shouldn’t have.” 

“Elphie, why not? You won’t believe me, but I knew that I must buy this for you the moment I saw it. I would have bought it for myself if it’s shorter, but the length is just not suitable. It emphasises my fat bum!” She pulled the hem of the cardigan to her hip before she turned sideways, showing off her perky rear.

“Elphie, you really have to accept this. It will be most embarrassing if I have to return the cardigan, and I can’t pass it to anyone else because I don’t know any girl who is as tall as you!” Galinda whined, pressing the top into Elphaba hands. “And I’ll borrow it sometimes.” She winked at the green girl and laughed.

The blonde sat on one of the stools when Elphaba continued with her work after she accepted the present.

“Where Doctor Dillamond?” she asked.

“He’s attending some teachers meetings about the new term.”

“Ugh, meetings.” Galinda snorted inelegantly, and the green girl chuckled. “Being an adult is hard. Working, meetings… Elphie, when was the last time you cut your hair?” she changed the topic suddenly.

“I can’t remember. Maybe a year ago? Why?”

“I’m just wondering how long it will take for my hair to grow to the same length as yours,” she said, tossing her hair such that the curled ends brushed against her shoulders. “And it is straight, isn’t it?” The Gillikinese tilted her head to have a better look at the plaited hair.

“Mmph,” was Elphaba’s reply.

“I wish I can have straight hair.” She rested her chin on her hand. “But all I get is this wavy, shapeless, unmanageable mess.”

“Your hair?” Elphaba looked at the blonde in surprise. “Your hair is beautiful.”

“Nah,” she waved her off. “Blondes are so common in Gillikin. I look like every other girl back in Frottica. On the other hand, I’ll stand out if I have black, straight hair. I’ll look different.”

“Oh, by the way, I have confirmed on the modules that I will be taking in the coming semester.” Galinda had shared her dilemma with Elphaba on the modules to take previously.

“And what will you be taking?”

“Advanced Economics. Some of my friends are taking that so at least I will have company. Accounting. Business Management. Statistics, because it is compulsory. Basic Law. Remember when I told you that I want to take Sorcery?”

Elphaba nodded her head.

“Madame Morrible has confirmed that she will not be offering this module this semester. She might do it during the holidays or the next semester, according to her, depending on the demand and how busy she is. You know, you should tie your hair into a ponytail instead. It’ll look better.” The blonde changed the topic of their conversation again. “When my hair is longer, I’ll dye it black like yours. And then we walk down the street and pretend to be sisters.” She looked at the green girl, taking in her height and let out a huff. “Well, maybe cousins. A taller cousin with her shorter cousin.”

* * *

Elphaba had to go to town the next day. She had not been there since her last visit with Fiyero, but Doctor Dillamond had written a letter (it was written personally by the Doctor; he had not asked for her help) to his family and had requested her to post it for him. She walked past the hot pot restaurant that she and Fiyero had dined at previously and stopped. The lights were off; the staff were resting in between the mealtimes, and she found herself looking at the corner where they had sat the last time they were there. She remembered that they had talked about the Great Drought as they ate, or rather Elphaba had talked and Fiyero had listened and offered his comments once in a while. He had seemed so attentive, so interested in her opinion then. And then she remembered one of the times when he revealed that he would usually pretend to be interested in a conversation even if he was not, in order not to appear rude. Perhaps that was one of the conversations that he was not interested in. Elphaba let out a sigh as she gave the interior of the restaurant one last look before she moved on.

She found the post office soon after; it was hidden in a nook in the alley just next to the hot pot restaurant. She arranged for the letter to be sent via registered post; Doctor Dillamond had requested for that to ensure that the letter would reach his family. She also sent a short letter to her father, and a much longer one to Nanny, telling her about her new life in Shiz.

A man came in from just when she was leaving the post office and nearly bumped into her. She muttered an apology, out of habit more than anything else, and then he grabbed her arm.

“Excuse me?”


	8. Chapter 8

**AN : Antonita, thank you so much for your comments. I'm glad you are enjoying this story. There are so few fiyeraba shippers nowadays, and even fewer who read and review. The friendship between the 3 of them will play a bigger role as the story goes (and to be honest, I really like writing the dynamics between them for this story).**

Fiyero Tiggular had a set of rules when it comes to girls. 

Rule number one: Never try hard to get the attention of a girl. 

And he never had any problem with that. After all, he never had to try hard to get the attention of any girl; they flocked to him like bees to honey. It could be because of his good looks, his irresistible charms, or his royal title. It could also be due to the fact that he was always the life of the party, his bad-boy reputation, or the unexplained fact that he always knew what girls wanted to hear. Flirting seemed to come naturally to him, as if he was born with it, like how the lungs knew how to breathe, and the legs how to walk (or to dance, in his case). Of course, there were some, far and in between he would say, who were immune to his charms. But that was never a matter of concern. After all, there were too many girls and too little time.

But all these were not on the prince’s mind when he stepped into the library on a late Saturday afternoon. He had sent Galinda back to her room after they had tea with Avaric, and the blonde was most probably in her room trying on some new makeup before her girls’ night out in the evening. 

He took his usual route within the library. Floor by floor, his eyes scanned the tables that were within his sight, his feet taking him to those that were hidden behind shelves. He smiled at a classmate who attended the same class as him and wondered if he could ask him if he had seen a green girl in the library. But he did not. He shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other as he ascended the stairs to the reference section, his art supplies inside making soft clapping sounds as they knocked against one another. He picked a book at random from a shelf and pulled out a seat, throwing his bag on a table carelessly before he sat down and put his feet on the table. This was the table that she had used the last time he saw her at this place. He opened the book and pretended to read, hoping that she would suddenly appear before him and pushed his feet off the table, a frown on her face. 

No, he was not trying to get her attention. He was just spending his free time in the library.

He looked around. The library seemed different when she was not here. It looked dead, devoid of life. The light cast by the hanging lamps looked dull and gloomy, the shelves dead wood coated with a layer of dust, and the yellowed books ancient materials that had not been touched by anyone in ages. He put down the book and let out a breath. He had planned to tell her about the art class that he had signed up for. Other girls would most probably ask him if he could draw them, eager and ready to pose, but he suspected that she would instead scoff at the idea that he had any artistic cells in his body. He might ask her if she would like him to draw her if she was no longer mad at him, just to tease her a little, just to draw a blush out of her. But the green girl never appeared. 

He had seen her twice since school started. Once, she was at the far end of the corridor where he was at, leaving a classroom and carrying a large stack of paper. Before he could catch up with her, a girl from his Political Science class had waylaid him and he lost sight of her after that. The second time he had seen her outside one of the cafes, a sandwich in her hand. She was walking toward his general direction and had raised her head at the same moment, and the way she quickly looked away and changed her direction told him that she had seen him and was avoiding him.

It would not have bothered him if it was any other girl. But by Kumbrica’s teeth, he would not be ignored by her. Not her.

But she was not at the library, and he did not want to go to the girls’ dormitory. That would be too obvious and reeked of desperation. And Fiyero Tiggular would never be desperate for the attention of a girl.

Never.

He would never tell her, but he had been dropping by the library regularly, different excuses on hand, hoping that research would drive her back to the dark musky place and they would bump into each other. But it seemed that she had changed her habits, just like how he had changed his. The library closed on Sundays, but perhaps he would find her somewhere on campus, maybe reading a book under one of the trees by the Suicide Canal. Maybe he should find out Doctor Dillamond’s schedule for this term from one of the guys whom he was acquainted with. He could loiter outside the class without looking conspicuous. He told himself that he would station himself outside the Doctor Dillamond’s class next week. There was no way she could avoid him if she turned up – she needed to assist the Professor if it was part of her job, but he was pretty sure he could spend a few seconds alone with her. He would find out then if she was still upset with him and decide what to do next.

The plan brought a smile to his lips.

The art class was located on the second floor of a two-storey building at the edge of Shiz Town, a small room that could only accommodate up to five students. He had allocated some time to talk to Elphaba before his class and so he reached the place early. The room was empty except for the teacher, a man in his late forties who nodded briefly to acknowledge the arrival of the first of his students when Fiyero greeted him. He moved to the back, choosing an easel at the back of the room, near to the window. 

The other students streamed in gradually, no one he knew, and the teacher instructed them to take out their drawing materials before he disappeared into the next room. Fiyero bent down to take out the painting materials that he had used once before, and that was why he was not looking when the teacher returned. He looked up and promptly dropped the paintbrushes in his hands.

The clattering sound was loud in the room, and every pair of eyes turned to look at him. But he did not notice their stares, only her brown eyes looking back at him.

For a moment, he thought he saw panic dawning on her – the stiffening of her limbs, the way her eyes darted towards the door as if she was going to bolt. But the teacher said something and passed her a bouquet of dried flowers, and she lowered her head and was not looking at him anymore. 

Her hair, usually tied into a severe plait, was let down. It reached her waist, dark waves undulating down its length. Someone had applied a dash of glitter on her eyelids, drawing attention to her melancholy eyes. A circlet of flowers was placed on her crown, while bright, cheerful flowers wound around her arms and wrists and trailed on the floor.

The teacher talked about the flowers, the contrast between the silkiness of the flowers and the rough spun fabric, the brightness of the petals against the faded loose dress, but Fiyero was not listening.

With her emerald skin and the flowers, she looked like a mythical creature, a nymph. Definitely not beautiful in the conventional sense, but entrancing, enthralling.

A goddess. 

Fiyero looked at his classmates. One of them had begun to sketch, wide sweeping strokes across the canvas that he suspected did not capture anything. Another student fiddled with his paint, choosing the colours that he intended to use. The last student, eyeing Elphaba in a way that made his stomach clench.

She remained totally still, her eyes downcast as if she was just a statue. The grey dress lent a dullness to her skin as if she was mourning for herself, dying slowly so that the flowers could thrive.

“What do you see?” A voice behind him asked.

Fiyero turned around. 

“You do know that this is an advanced class, don’t you?” The teacher asked, looking at his blank canvas as if he had not praised the very same student in the last session.

“I… yes….” He replied, embarrassed. He turned towards her and saw her wide eyes looking back at him before she turned away, resuming her position.

Someone in the room sniggered.

Fiyero picked up his pencil without another word and, with a few strokes, captured the outline of the green girl, and the teacher moved on, satisfied. He had only attended a few months of formal lessons when he was younger, but it was enough to tell him that all lessons were boring, and he was better off learning on his own. His hand moved on its own, sketching her face, her features, eyes that he suddenly realized he could draw even with his eyes closed. 

The teacher walked around the classroom, making brief comments and giving suggestions to the students. Fiyero nodded absentmindedly to his comments.

He started to paint, and the next thing he knew the teacher was telling the class that they would need to wrap up in thirty minutes. They could leave their paintings here and collect them next week, or have it delivered. Fiyero put in the finishing touches; the shadows among the folds of the dress, the bright, colourful petals. Someone was by her side by the time he had rinsed his paintbrushes.

“- for a drink? I’ll wait for you while you change and remove that paint.” He managed to catch the end of the one-sided conversation. Elphaba looked away, fidgeted, and Fiyero nearly laughed out loud at her plain discomfort.

He put on his brightest smile instead.

“Ready to go?” he asked Elphaba with a familiarity that he did not feel. Elphaba looked up at him, confused.

The other student took a step forward.

“Excuse me,” the boy said as he glared at Fiyero, almost growling.

Fiyero chuckled. 

“I’m afraid she can’t join you for a drink. Because I’m sending her home. Perhaps next time you should try to find out if a girl is single before you ask her out,” he advised. 

He stole a glance at the green girl. She could have blown his cover then, embarrassed him, or chose to go out with the other guy just to spite him. But she did not. She simply stood there, looking down, and it suddenly occurred to Fiyero that most probably she had never found herself in such a situation before. He reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers, feeling her fingers limp between his. He locked their fingers.

"Are your stuff in the other room?" he asked softly. She nodded slightly, surprisingly compliant. He turned towards the other room, but not before putting his hand on the small of her back and giving the other guy a knowing smile. He waited while she changed and slung her bag across his body before he reached for her hand again. He wanted to show her the painting that he had done of her but decided not to at the last minute; he had no idea how long she would cooperate with the charade.

She only spoke when they had left the building.

“You can let go of my hand now.”

Fiyero chuckled. “Why, is my skin colour contagious?” She scoffed, and wrenched her hand away, walking ahead. 

“You’re welcome,” he called after her and got the reaction that he wanted – she spun around, agitated.

“What?”

“You know… for saving you from ….” He gestured vaguely.

“I don’t need you to save me!” she spluttered.

“Really? I supposed you can’t help getting into those awkward situations whenever I’m around.”

Antagonising her was just so easy, and so fun. 

Elphaba stared at him in shock before she raised her hands in exasperation. “Why am I even talking to you?”

“Because you can’t help it?” His grin widened.

She let out a growl of frustration and walked away again.

Fiyero caught up with her easily. He let the silence grow between them, matching his strides with hers.

“I haven’t been seeing you around. Have you been avoiding me?” he asked lightheartedly.

She did not reply. Fiyero let out a huff. It seemed that she was still angry with him.

“Look, I’m … I’m… whatever you’ve heard that day…I didn’t mean it.”

There was no reply.

“I really didn’t mean it,” he repeated for emphasis, just in case she did not hear him the first time.

It was a while before she replied.

“You didn’t mean it? Then why did you say it if you didn’t mean it?”

He shrugged. “Well, it’s … she was asking… and …” He could not tell her how much he enjoyed the company of another girl, could he? “I mean… it’s just what she wanted to hear. It’s just words. It doesn’t hurt anybody.”

Fiyero was looking at her as he said it, and he saw the expression that flickered across her face as if he had not said those words but had slapped her. It sank in then, that perhaps it was not true after all, that the words did not hurt. 

He stepped into her path with his arms outstretched, effectively stopping her.

“Look, Elphaba, I’m…” again, the word was stuck in his throat. He held her shoulders and gave her a charming smile. “Please be magnanimous. Don’t be mad at me.” He gave her a charming smile. 

Her shoulder slumped.

“I’m not,” she said, so soft he nearly missed the words.

“Really? Let’s go for dinner then. I’m hungry,” he suggested.

She looked at him. “I’m not.”

“Then keep me company,” he cajoled.

“No.”

“See? You are angry. At. Me.”

“Am. Not.” 

“Then prove it to me. Dinner. And let’s have breakfast together tomorrow. Just you and me.”

“I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

“Really?” he raised his eyebrows. “Or are you just scared?”

“Of course not.”

“That settles it then. I know of just the place. It might be crowded at this hour though.” A small cafe with a cosy atmosphere, famous for its hot soup and tasty pasta. He remembered the small round tables, the way the diners had to sit with their knees touching.

She frowned as if she had suddenly realised that she had gotten into a trap. 

The café was just a few streets away, an awkward five-minute walk with Fiyero talking and Elphaba replying in monosyllables, or not at all. As they turned the corner, Fiyero realised that he was right, he could see that the place was packed even from a distance. The staff were busy taking orders, and they had to wait while a table was set up for them.

Fiyero leaned against a lamp post as they waited. Elphaba stepped away, choosing to stand between two lamp posts where the light was weak. She might think that she was in the shadows, but Fiyero’s eyes were accustomed to seeing in the dark, and he studied her without her knowing. She was not wearing the jacket that he had bought for her, but her old, thinner jacket. It was as if she was trying to prove to herself that she could do without him, that she did not need him. Her hair which she did not have the time to tie up earlier was let down, a curtain of black silk swaying gently in the evening breeze. The blustery wind blew, and the green girl tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket and pulled her jacket tighter. Any other girl would use the cold as an excuse and wrapped her arms around him. Other girls would be ecstatic to have dinner and breakfast with him. But here she was, keeping a distance from him, and most probably trying to come up with a valid reason so that she did not have to meet him for breakfast tomorrow. 

He chuckled at that thought.

He wondered how it felt to have her in his arms.

_Her arms wrapped around his waist as she rested her face in the crook of his neck, her breath warm on his skin._

Her hands came out of the pockets, and then, as if she had no idea what to do with them, went in again.

_Her hand resting lightly on his chest, the fingers curling as she tilted her face and looked at him from under her lashes. She touched him gently on his jaw with a finger, her lips upturned as if she had a secret that she wanted to share with him._

Fiyero straightened himself and walked towards her, stopping before the green girl without a word.

She gave him a questioning look, her eyebrows raised. He could see that she was still slightly annoyed with him. 

“Nothing,” he replied as he tilted his head and kissed her.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN : antonita, thank you for your review. I think I'm really cheeky to write Elphaba hapless and embarassed in that kind of situation. :D. I think it is hard for Fiyero to tone down immediately because he has been behaving like this for so many years. But he will change as the story progresses (for the better LOL).**

**sherryvalli, thank you for your review. Please don't die soon because we have many chapters to go.**

**Sorry for the delay. I have been busy with work and holidays, and I just can't find the right tone for this chapter despite multiple edits.**

**BTW, I have just started posting an old fiyerba fic "The Search" here in AO3. The story was posted in another fanfiction site and it's my fav multi-chap and I would like to share it with you AO3 readers too.  
**

He attacked from behind, tackling the prince to the ground before he flipped him over. The blond straddled Fiyero, fisted the front of his shirt and raised his hand, two fingers poised inches from boy’s blue eyes, ready to strike.

“Confess or die!” Avaric growled menacingly, but there was a grin on his face as he looked down at his best friend.

Fiyero raised his hands in mock surrender. His left shoulder had struck a rock when he hit the ground, but he was not going to let Avaric have the satisfaction of knowing.

“Alright, I confess. I’m better looking, and much more popular than you are.”

Avaric jerked his shirt with a snort of disgust.

“Oz, you’re more delusional than I thought. Who’s the girl?”

“What girl?” Galinda suddenly appeared out of nowhere, peering at his face.

Fiyero took a sideward glance at the latest arrival. He knew that a crowd was gathering, whispering among themselves. It was not every day that two of the most popular boys in Shiz fought in public.

“Get off me, Av. I don’t fancy boys.”

Avaric snorted again, but he did get off Fiyero. He pulled his friend up as a show of chivalry. 

“Show’s over,” he told the crowd. He offered an arm to Galinda who took it. She looped her other hand through Fiyero’s arm, and the trio made their way to one of the cafes for breakfast.

“So which girl are you talking about?” Galinda asked again when the other students were out of earshot.

Avaric gestured to Fiyero with his chin.

“Ask his royal Casanova. He was seen snogging a girl in town last night.”

“Fiyero?!” Galinda directed her attention to the other boy.

Fiyero shrugged.

“What does _that_ mean? You made out with a girl?” She sounded as if he was caught applying pink eye shadow.

“Wasn’t much of a snog.” He had to admit. 

“So there is a girl,” Galinda surmised. Avaric kept quiet. He knew that Galinda would get to the bottom of the whole story. The girl behaved like a dog with its eye on a bone sometimes – persistent till the very end.

Fiyero opened the door to the café for Galinda.

“So what would you like for breakfast?” He asked with a smile, trying to change the subject.

Galinda indicated her preference and took a seat at the farthest corner while the boys ordered for her.

“So who is that girl?” She asked the moment the boys sat down with their breakfast. “Is she from Shiz?”

“Not really.”

“What do you mean by not really? Either she is or she is not.” She pouted.

“Nothing happened. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“I heard that she’s a staff here,” Avaric contributed.

“A teacher? Fiyero, is it Miss Greyling?” Miss Greyling was the only lady teacher in Shiz below thirty.

Fiyero let out an exaggerated sigh. He wished that they would stop interrogating him. He knew that he was not being rational. They had always shared their dating lives with one another since they became best friends, but somehow he did not feel like answering their questions on that day. He could not explain it, but Elphaba was different. What he had with Elphaba was different from what he had with the other girls, though even he himself was unable to state exactly what the difference was. In fact, he had not even mentioned the green girl to them. She was like a secret, his secret. He pursed his lips, and it was as if he could still feel her lips soft against his, as if he could still hear the soft gasp that she had made.

“She’s nothing,” he said casually, but Galinda seemed to be very good at reading his mind that morning.

“Really?” she replied with an arching eyebrow.

“Really,” Fiyero replied. “She is just someone that I was meeting for dinner. Just … some girl.” He shrugged as if he could not even remember how she looked like or what her name was (which happened to him sometimes).

“Just some girl?” Galinda parroted his words. “Your eyes say you’re lying, Fiyero.”

“Look, she’s not interested in me,” he finally admitted.

“Karma’s a bitch.” Avaric patted him on his back.

“So is it Miss Greyling?” Galinda probed again.

“Miss Greyling’s not green,” Avaric let the cat out of the bag.

Galinda’s eyes widened. “Green? What do you mean green?”

“Green skin. They said she’s green, not like how Quadlings are red but really greeennnnnn.” 

Fiyero really felt like giving Avaric a punch but was interrupted by Galinda.

“Green? Like Elphie green?”

“Elphie green?” Avaric asked. “What is that? Is it the latest shade of green?”

“That’s her name. No, it’s my nickname for her. Her name is Elphaba. Haven’t I mentioned her before?”

“You mean you know her?” Avaric sat up straight, his face lighting up. 

“Of course,” Galinda replied. “I know everybody. She’s Doctor Dillamond’s assistant.”

“Wow! A geek breaking Fiyero’s heart? That’s news. This is so worth checking out.” Avaric quickly dapped his mouth with the napkin and pushed back his chair, his breakfast forgotten. 

“You leave her alone, Avaric,” Fiyero hissed as he stood up, his hands on the table, and the looks on his friends’ faces told him that they were surprised by the protectiveness in his voice. 

Just as he was.

* * *

It was not Avaric who went in search of Elphaba but Galinda. The lights in Doctor Dillamond’s office were off, the door locked, and the blonde went to the only girl’s dormitory on campus, looking around her as she walked, expecting to see Fiyero. Both Fiyero and Avaric behaved similarly when it came to girls. They both liked their girls pretty, popular and with a good sense of fashion. Once they had set their sight on one, they would pursue the girl relentlessly, showering her with flowers and gifts, meeting up regularly and melting her heart easily. Their interest flared up without warning and died off just as quickly after a few months. It was a miracle that they had never fought over the same girl.

As she made her way to the dormitory, she wondered if Avaric had made a mistake. Fiyero and Elphaba? Sure, the green skin was interesting, but Elphaba was not attractive like Fiyero’s other ex-girlfriends. The girl seemed to dress with simplicity and comfort in mind, and her hair was always in a plait without any accessory. She looked like the kind of girl who did not care what other people thought of her dressing. Sure, she was courteous and smart, and her features were not ugly, but her eyes were brown, her nose and chin were too sharp and she had freckles. And Fiyero had always like cheerful, outgoing girls with smooth, fair skin, not girls who liked to stay in a lab and go to the library. She was everything Fiyero’s past conquests were not, plain and unassuming. On the other hand, Elphaba was not the kind of girl whom Galinda usually hang around with, but she had been going to Doctor Dillamond’s office at least once a week just for the chance to talk to someone who was not in love with her own reflection. 

She found her in the common area in the dormitory, alone. There was a book opened on her lap, but the green girl had a faraway look in her eyes and the book was untouched. Galinda knocked on the doorframe, breaking her reverie and Elphaba looked up, her eyes widening when she saw who it was.

No, not plain brown eyes.

“You kissed Fiyero.” Galinda saw no point in beating around the bush.

It took two seconds before the green girl jumped to her feet, dropping her book in the process. She bent down to pick it up.

“I…” she spluttered, dropping her book again and picking it up again. “He … he ...” Her fingers went to her lips momentarily before she dropped her hand. 

Galinda cocked her head to one side as she scrutinized the guilt-stricken face before her.

“You did not even tell me that you know him,” she said. There was no response from the green girl.

Galinda went to the couch and stood next to Elphaba.

“Let me guess. So he initiated the kiss. But did you kiss him back?”

Did she? Was kissing something that was inborn? Was a girl supposed to know what to do automatically in such a situation? Did she kiss him back instinctively? 

Elphaba could not remember. She only remembered Fiyero leaning in, his warm fingers brushing against her jaw before he lifted her chin, his kiss cutting off the question that was on her lips. She remembered the warm rush that flooded her senses, how it had felt like an eternity and yet was over too soon. And how she broke away and fled.

It was hours before she could think clearly again.

“I’m sorry,” Elphaba told Galinda.

“Sorry?” There was a smile on her face, and Elphaba did not know how to interpret that. “Sorry that you have kissed him or sorry that you have not.”

“I…” Elphaba paused, wringing her fingers. “I’m …I didn’t know that he will … “ she did not even use the word ‘kiss’, as if she was not sure what he had done exactly. “I should have stopped him. I should have moved away… You have a right to be mad at me. I…”

“You what?” Glinda nearly laughed at the look on her face. She had never seen a girl so troubled just because Fiyero had kissed her. 

“I’m sorry it happened. He’s your boyfriend and …”

“Lurline, Elphie, no!” Galinda giggled as she grabbed her friend’s arm. “We’re just friends. Very close friends, of course. His last girlfriend, well actually all his ex-girlfriends were extremely jealous of our friendship. Well, I guess you can say that I am even closer to him than all his girlfriends, I’m always there for him.” She explained. 

“I’m not his girlfriend,” she repeated and was not surprised to see a flash of relief on Elphaba’s face that she suspected the green girl was not aware of.

“Elphie dear, I’m not being boastful, but Fiyero will never give any girl a second glance if I were his girlfriend.” She looped her arm through Elphaba’s, her other hand relieving her of the book. “Come, let’s go for a walk.”

Galinda led the way, leading Elphaba to one of the picturesque paths on campus and made their way to the Suicide Canal. Spring was in the air and many students were out enjoying the sun. Galinda saw a group of her friends in the distance and waved to them, her arm still looped around Elphaba’s.

“Look Elphie, you can stop me anytime and you can choose not to answer my questions, but I’m going to ask them anyway. Do you like him?”

Elphaba looked away. “He’s nice,” was her reply.

“Of course he is. All my friends are nice, and that includes you,” Galinda replied.

“Elphie, I’ve known Fiyero for a long time. Sure, he’s charismatic, generous, and has such a honeyed tongue. But he’s too in love with himself. He flirts too much, and his personality just encourages those girls even when he is attached, even when he is not interested. And he loses interest in his girlfriends too fast. Do you know that one of his relationships only lasted two weeks? The poor girl was devastated! If you’re interested in looking for a boyfriend, I have a whole list of nice guys who are absolutely devoted and who will be more than happy …”

“Galinda, I’m not …”

“Not interested in other guys or not interested in having a boyfriend?” 

“I…” The green girl slowed to a stop. “I’m not you, Galinda,” she said as if that explained everything.

Galinda laughed. “Of course, you’re not me. There’s only one Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands. But then there is only one Elphaba of Munchkinland too.”

“I’m not you,” Elphaba tried to explain again. “You’re beautiful and kind. I’m sure you have lots of suitors. I’m … I’m me. There’s nothing interesting about me. I don’t have friends.” Galinda pointed to herself then, a finger on her nose, and Elphaba could not help but smile. “Alright, I don’t make friends easily, and I’m green. I’m sure there’s a misunderstanding somewhere,” she said. 

She was sure that he had regretted it.

“I’m here to work. My work is my priority,” she added. 

Galinda looked at the green girl, and Elphaba had a feeling that that was the answer that she had expected.

“You’re right, you know, Elphie. You’re young and bright. Shiz is a good place for independent young ladies. You’re right to focus on your career. I wish I can be like you. I might be studying now, but I won’t be surprised if I’ll marry someone old and rich once I graduate and never work a single day.”

“You can be independent too, Galinda, if that’s what you want. It’s always good to be one’s own master.”

“Nah, it’s so much easier to spend someone else’s money,” she said with a wink and they continued walking.

The two girls stopped under a tree.

“I’m glad we have this talk, Elphie. We might not have known each other for long, but I really like you. I will never forgive myself if you get yourself hurt. Fiyero’s a nice guy, but I really don’t think he is suitable for you.” She gave the taller girl a hug. “Do you have anything on today? I’m going to Town this afternoon for some shopping. Would you like to join me?”

Elphaba shook her head, lifting the book from Galinda’s hand. “This is my plan for the weekend.”

Galinda smiled. She chuckled when Elphaba continued. “And please don’t get anything from town for me.”

“Not even cookies?” she asked innocently, batting her eyelids.

“Not even cookies.”

It was only much later when Galinda realised what was off. Fiyero was always persistent when it comes to getting the girl he wanted, and the way he took a step back for Elphaba was puzzling, to say the least. It was as if he was not really interested in her, or perhaps it was something else.

* * *

Fiyero sat at the edge of his bed, looking at the carpeted floor.

He knew where he should be at this moment. He should be with Elphaba. Oz, he should be with her last night. He should have gone after her, and not just stared after her, his feet rooted to the ground, surprised by her reaction. He should have gone to her dormitory to look for her. And if he had not done so last night, he should have done it first thing in the morning and looked for her in the dormitory, charmed his way back in her good graces, flirted his way, sweet-talked his way.

Even though he had no idea how it could be done.

Oz, what had possessed him to do the thing he did?

Someone knocked on his door.

His head snapped up, and for a moment he had thought that it was Elphaba at the door. But he knew almost immediately that it was not possible. She would not come. She had no reason to come. She had no reason to look for a boy who had kissed her without her permission, a kiss that she did not want.

He kept silent, hoping that whoever at the door would think that there was no one in the room and go away.

The person knocked again.

“It’s me, Fiyero.” Galinda’s familiar voice rang out. “I know you’re in there.”

He let out a groan. 

“Fiyerooooooooo,” the blonde sang.

Obviously, she still remembered that he had told her once that she did not have a good voice. He let her in.

She stood before him, blocking off the light into his room.

“She’s not your type.”

“Who are you talking about?” he feigned ignorance.

“I’m talking about ShenShen.” He shook his head at her poor attempt at jokes and chuckled softly.

“You’re right. ShenShen is not my type.”

“So tell me what happened.”

Fiyero took a deep breath and gave her the brightest smile that he could muster.

“Come on, Galinda, what’s the big deal? She’s just a girl. I’m just in the mood for a peck and she was there. It’s just a kiss. It does not mean anything. Everyone overreacted.”

“Really?”

“You’re not jealous, are you?” He attempted to crack a joke.

“Ha! You think too highly of yourself, Yero.”

He gave her a wan smile.

“Do you know anything about her?” Galinda asked.

He knew about her family, the things she loved, how smart and genuine she was. He knew that she had difficulty in making friends, in trusting people. He knew how delicate she was underneath the tough exterior that she wore.

He kept his thoughts to himself.

“I like her, Yero. She doesn’t have many friends, but she’s my friend. And she’s definitely not your type. You’ll never be serious about someone like her. You’ll get bored with her faster than my nail polish can dry. Don’t flirt with her. Don’t send her the wrong message. Don’t make her think that she got a chance. She does not know how to play your kind of game. She doesn’t know what flirting is. She’ll give you her heart, and you’ll crush it. Do me a favour. Go and toy with your regular fans. Save your flirting for someone else. Maybe one of your classmates. Maybe one of your Vinkun princesses.”

“Did I say that I’m not serious about her?” he had to ask, a smile plastered on his face. “What if I tell you that I am. She’s interesting. She has her own mind. She is like a breath of fresh air among the sea of Shiz girls with their makeup and perfume.”

Galinda could not find fault with that but she folded her arms, unconvinced.

“So now you are interested in her? But is it a good thing? Maybe whatever you have will last for a few weeks, and then someone else will catch your fancy. Maybe it’ll last longer, but who’s to say that it will be good for her if your interest holds.” 

Fiyero knew that he should stop, but he did not. “What if I’m looking for someone serious now, a riding-into-the-sunset, a happily-ever-after?”

Perhaps she saw something on his face, perhaps she heard something in his voice, for Galinda’s eyes softened. She knelt so that they were at eye level and clasped his hands in hers. 

“Do you know that her parents are not with her?” she asked softly. “Do you know that the only person whom she can confide in is her nanny who is living far away in Munchkinland? Yero, you might not believe this, but I really like her. And I don’t think she’s the type who will hold back once she falls. You’ll hurt her. You can talk until nightfall about your happily-ever-after but we both know that’s not how your story will go. We both know what’s going to happen. You can’t fight against your fate. You’ll break her heart sooner or later, so why not sooner. Spare a thought for her.”

She continued when there was no reply from the prince. “You know, I was just thinking. I might have just the right guy to introduce to her. He does not have a title, but he is kind, and he makes an effort in his studies. And he won’t hurt her.”

She looked at him, trying to read his thoughts. He hoped that his face did not reveal how he felt.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN :   
Indy’s Green Hat, Galinda is protective of Elphie because she knew something about Fiyero, which will be revealed in this chapter.**

**Fae’sFlower – no, Fiyero is not going to literally break Elphaba’s heart (somehow the frozen Ana comes into mind LOL).  
**

Damnit. He should have stayed in the dorm for the evening, but what kind of prince would he be if he behaved like a hermit?

But there she was, sitting at the other end of the cafe, oblivious to his presence. Galinda was next to her, giggling at something that she herself had said as she gestured with her hands before placing them on Elphaba’s arm. There was a boy with them, someone he had not met before, someone from out of town. The boy turned to Elphaba and asked her something, and she replied. Her hands went under the table, tugging at the hem of her skirt that ended just below her knees. She had attracted some attention when she first entered the restaurant an hour ago; some of the diners’ eyes resting on her skin, Fiyero unknowingly holding his breath during those moments before they turned their attention back to their food.

As Fiyero watched, the trio poured over the menu for the second time that evening. The blonde stood up with the menu, waving away the boy’s offer to place the order and pranced towards the bar counter, leaving Elphaba alone with him. Her hair was no longer in a braid but tied up in a ponytail, and it swayed slightly as she nodded her head to something that the boy said, catching the light and turning her raven black hair bronze momentarily. Her hands stayed on her lap, never touching her hair or her ears like what the other girls usually did. She was not the prettiest girl in the whole place. Oz, she was not even one of the prettiest, but Fiyero was unable to tear his eyes away.

“Are you done staring?” A voice next to him asked. Fiyero turned around. He had forgotten that Avaric was with him.

“I still don’t understand. What’s so special about her?” the Gillikinese asked.

“Special? Have I ever said that she is special?” 

“Not in so many words. But your eyes were screaming out loud, for Lurline’s sake.” He shaped his fingers around his eyes like goggles. “Literally screaming.”

“What a small word,” the prettiest girl in the room slid onto the empty stool beside them. “I’d never have suggested this place if I knew that you’re here.”

“Good evening, Galinda,” Fiyero replied. “I didn’t realise that I am so easy to miss.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “My fault for not noticing you when I first came in. He’s nice, isn’t he?” She looked back at the table where she came from. “He studies Law and Chemistry. Strange combination. I think she likes him.” She looked at their used cutlery. “I see that you’ve finished your dinner, so if you don’t mind, perhaps you would like to leave before she sees you. My treat.” She signalled for the bill.

“Did she say that she does not want to see me?”

Galinda looked at him as if he was stupid. “Of course not in those exact words. But you wouldn’t want to ruin her nice evening, would you? She needs to relax after working so hard for the whole week.” The blonde sighed dramatically. 

Avaric suggested to go to a pub nearby, and the duo was almost out of the door when Fiyero turned around and saw Elphaba making her way to the washroom. She was alone.

“Wait for me outside,” he told his friend.

“I still don’t understand what’s so special about her,” Avaric asked.

“She’s not.”

“Of course.” Avaric smacked his forehead as if he had said something stupid. “And I’m a Munchkinlander girl.” He laughed at his own joke and gave his friend a clap on the back before he exited the restaurant.

Fiyero went in the general direction of the washroom. It did not take long for her to come out.

“Hi,” he said when she exited the washroom. She stopped in her tracks and took half a step back subconsciously. Was he that scary? Or was he that repulsive to her now? 

She looked down. No winsome smile, no hair touching, just her fingers curling slightly. How was he supposed to read that?

“So how’s your date?” he asked.

She frowned and took a quick glance at her table. Fiyero’s eyes followed. The boy and Galinda were seated at the table, their drinks in their hands, Galinda sitting absolutely still as she tried not to flirt. Fiyero nearly laughed out loud.

“He’s not my date,” she offered, and the prince could not help the smile that formed on his face.

He reached for her, and she took another step backwards. Was she afraid of him or was she afraid of how she would react to him? What happened to the girl who rolled her eyes at the silly declarations that he made, who always looked at him straight in the eye and said what was in her mind? What happened to the girl who let him hold her hand and smiled whenever she saw him?

“Excuse me,” the girl said, and she squeezed her way out of the corridor through a tiny gap and fled.

* * *

Elphaba walked along the corridor. It was late afternoon, and she had just gone to the library and returned the books that were due that day. She had borrowed a few books after that, both for herself and Doctor Dillamond, and her arms were full with the books.

As she walked, her thoughts went back to a few evenings ago, when she had met Fiyero again. She knew that she could not avoid him forever. She was relieved when he did not go to Doctor Dillamond’s office to look for her anymore, and yet there was that indescribable feeling that seemed to tug at her heart, that made her want to hear his voice again, to see his face again. And yet she was afraid, afraid that when she saw him the next time he would be cracking jokes at her expense, without a thought to her feelings. Or maybe he would be kissing another girl at one of the corridors, oblivious to her presence even if she stood before them.

Afraid that he would want to kiss her again. 

Afraid that she would let him.

She had retaliated by borrowing more books and reading till late at night, letting work and books occupy her every waking moment and distracting her from thoughts of him.

The last class had ended ten minutes ago, and the corridor was filled with students who were waiting for their friends, talking to their friends or making dinner plans. She made her way towards Doctor Dillamond’s office, wanting to put the books that he had requested in his office, even though she knew that he would not have the time to read them tonight. She kept close to the walls out of habit, the books hugged tightly to her chest so that she would not bump into any of the students and dropped the books. 

Behind her, amidst the bustle, she heard the sharp shrill voice of a girl calling out to someone, and it was only when the girl called out a second time that she caught the name.

Fiyero.

He would be somewhere in the crowd. 

She fastened her footsteps.

There was an alley between two classroom blocks, its entrance blocked by a few pots of tall plants with long, razor-sharp leaves. As she walked past the entrance, a hand grabbed her from behind. Before she could react, the person pulled her through the pots of plants into the dark lane. She dropped the books onto the floor, and she jerked her hand away, hissing at her abductor.

“Get your hands off –“ she was hushed by a familiar voice.

“Fiy –“ his name was not even out of her mouth when he hushed her again.

“What do you – “

“Now where is he?” a voice spoke out, so close it was as if the person who had spoken was just next to them. Elphaba looked at the entrance sharply, and Fiyero pulled her to him, burying his face into the crook of her neck.

Two girls walked by before she could protest again.

“I definitely saw him just now,” one of them said. The other girl turned her head for a quick check of the alley and turned away just as quickly when she saw the green face looking back.

“Sweet Lurline,” she said, disgusted by the idea that she had caught the artichoke making out with someone in the dark alley. She did not bother to decipher the identity of the other party hidden in the semi-darkness and quickened her footsteps to catch up with her friend as they tried to find the prince who had seemingly disappeared into the thin air.

Elphaba waited for a few seconds before she spoke again.

“Your fans are gone now,” she said, trying to give a laugh that sounded too bitter to her ears. She tried to pry herself from his embrace, but Fiyero tightened his grip on her. He gave a hiss of pain, and then his grip loosened as he leaned against the wall and slid to the ground.

“Fiyero?” he heard her calling his name, but she sounded so far away.

* * *

He would have laughed if he had any breath left, but he was in too much pain. He felt her hands on him, on his face, his arms, his chest, mumbling to herself as she tried to figure out if he was bleeding anywhere, if he had broken any bones, if there was anything wrong with him. She slipped an arm under his shoulder and tried to pull him up.

“No…” he tried to push her away, but his hand slid off her arm, too weak to even stop her, but she noticed the gesture. 

“You need help. I’m going to get help.”

“No…,” he muttered, hoping that she could hear him, because he almost could not hear himself. 

“Fiyero, you’re injured. You need help.”

“No… not injured. Just tired.” He tried to take a breath, tried to put some normalcy in his voice. He knew this pain. He knew its rhythm. He knew that it would ebb for a few moments before coming back with a vengeance. “Is anyone out there?” He asked.

“Maybe. I’ll ask them for help.” She tried to stand up and he reached for her again. Oz, her hand was so warm, so warm against his cold fingers.

“Please…” The plea seemed to work, and she knelt.

“You need help.”

“Then stay with me,” he pleaded. “Wait till there’s no one outside.”

“Fiyero, you could be bleeding inside!” 

“Just tired… wait…” He felt her hand on his face.

“Why?”

“Ug…ly… shirt.”

She scoffed. But she did wait. And she did let him lean against her, with nothing but the silence between them, punctuated by her soft breaths. It was some time before she spoke again.

“The corridor should be clear now. I’ll bring you to the infirmary.” The pain had lessened slightly, sufficiently.

“No infirmary… my room. Just… tired… ugly… shirt.” Oz, she was such a stubborn girl. Why couldn’t she just listen to him?

“You’re stubborn.”

“You’re…. beautiful…” He did not think she heard him.

He took a deep breath, and his lungs seemed to cooperate, albeit slightly. He straightened himself, testing his weight on his legs. He knew that she was trying to catch his eye, but he deliberately looked away.

“You may go now,” he waved with his fingers and staggered out of the alley. He noticed the pile of books on the floor even in his cloud of pain. Oz, he would need to pay for the books again. He told himself that he should remind her not to borrow so many books next time.

The light outside dazzled his eyes, and he squeezed them shut momentarily. Thank goodness there was hardly anyone in the corridor, no one who would trail him like a puppy, or pestered him for lunch. A friend called out his name, and he returned a smile, trying to look as if he was rushing somewhere, as if he was late for an appointment. It felt like an eternity before he reached his dormitory, and as he approached his room, he felt it again, the pain cresting like an unstoppable wave. He stopped at his door and squeezed his eyes shut, as he dug his hand into his bag blindly, searching for his keys. His hand shook so much that he dropped the bunch of keys. He picked it up, his hand trembling as he tried to fit the key into the lock, and the door opened. The last thing he remembered was himself stumbling into the room, his hands grappling at the furniture, pulling at the drawer and then darkness descended upon him.

* * *

He found himself on his own bed, bathed in a golden glow from the light on the study table that he hardly used (he preferred the couch which was next to the fireplace). There was an occupant there though, her back bent over as she read in the dim light. 

He remembered then, the green hand that had appeared out of nowhere and steadied his shaking hand as he tried to open the door. The arms that supported him as he stumbled into his room. She was not supposed to follow him, but there she was.

He struggled to sit up, grunting, and it attracted her attention.

She knelt before him, a hand reaching out to his face subconsciously before she realised what she was doing. She lowered her hand and looked at her lap before she stood up and fetch him a glass of water.

He would prefer a glass of wine at that moment, but he was sure she would not entertain that request.

“Thank you,” he muttered as he passed the glass back to her. 

He paused for a while before he spoke again. “I don’t think you should be in my room.”

“So what happened?” She did not even bother to justify her presence.

He looked up and smiled at her. “A hangover,” he lied, as he took a quick glance at the drawer next to his bed. The drawer was closed. Did he open it? Did he take out its contents? He might have. He hoped that he did not, though the fact that he had felt better indicated that most probably he had.

“Really? An ugly shirt and a hangover?” Her voice was low, lined with a slight trembling that he recognized as anger.

He looked at the floor instead.

Her hand came into his sight, a tinted bottle in her hand. Damnit, so he had taken it.

“What is this?” she asked.

He did not answer.

“I found two of them in your drawer. There’s no label, no prescription, no manufacturer name. I found half a dozen of these empty bottles around the room. Is this kind of party drug? Some kind of opium?” 

He kept quiet.

“What are you addicted to, Fiyero?”

He replied without looking up. “It’s none of your business.” He heard the sharp intake of her breath, sharp like a knife against his flesh.

“Yes, you’re right. It’s none of my business. Of course, it’s none of my business. I should have just minded my own business and walked away, shouldn’t I? And to think that I was so worried when you collapsed. I thought …” She started gesturing, her hands moving wildly at the edge of his vision. “I thought that you had a heart attack or someone stabbed you… and… and … it’s just… what? Withdrawal symptoms?” She shook the bottle violently. “Is that what you aspire to be? A drug addict?”

He took a deep breath. Oz, he should have chosen another escape route earlier. But seeing her just a few steps ahead, so close to him… he just had to talk to her again, and the alley was just the place for some privacy, even though his intention a few seconds earlier was to move away from the crowd and back to his room as soon as possible. Oz, what was it about this girl that always made him lose his mind?

“So?” Her voice was menacing.

“It’s not a drug. Not that kind anyway.” He hoped that she would leave it at that. But she did not.

“Then which kind?”

He closed his eyes, not knowing how to reply, what to say.

“Well, I suppose there is only one way to find out,” she said. There was silence, which was then broken by a jiggling sound, and it took him a few seconds before he realised what was the sound that he had heard - she had opened the bottle and taken out a few of the pills.

“No!” He shot out a hand and grabbed her arm, jerking the bottle and the tablets from her hands. “Don’t take it, Elphaba. Please. I don’t know what will happen if you take it.” He did not want her dead over something like this. Her face, a myriad of expressions – surprise, worry, anger, concern. Why couldn’t she be superficial and shallow like the rest of them?

“You know what… you’re right. I’m an addict,” he said, and a nonchalant smile spreading across his face. “Can’t do without this stuff. And you can forget about reporting to anyone. Madame Morrible knew about this long ago, and she has better things to care about than this.”

He watched as the concern on her face slowly faded away, replaced by a disappointment that made him wish that he had not told the lie, that he had not approached her today. But he knew what she would do. She would walk out, and she would avoid him for the rest of her life, but she would not tell anyone.

She picked up the bottle and pills from the floor without a word.

Just walked out and pretended that nothing had happened.

She placed them on the table.

Just go.

She turned towards the door.

Go.

“I’m sorry I asked.” Her voice, defeated.

Just...

“Elphaba.”

She did not turn around. She did not turn around at his voice. Not until he staggered towards her and his foot got caught on the carpet, and then she was there to break his fall, her arms around him, supporting him.

He let himself sink into her arms. This girl, whose thin frame looked as if it could barely support her own weight, holding him up, strong enough to carry his burden.

“I have always been a healthy child. I rarely fell sick. I rarely get colds or fever. I was an active child, I was always outdoors - riding, shooting, hunting. Or learning to do all these things, anyway.” He took a deep breath, taking comfort that she did not push him away. “When I was eight, something happened. I started to get tired easily. I started to get breathless even when I was only walking. I could not ride for long. And then it got worse. There were no other symptoms. There was no chills nor fever. The royal physicians had no idea what had struck me. The servants said it must be a spell or a curse. They brought in all kinds of doctors, those that are trained in modern medicine, those well versed in herbs and plants. They snuck in priests and witches, but all the medicine, spells, prayers and remedies, none of them worked. The tribe thought that the Arjikis would soon be without an heir to the throne.”

She had not moved, her arms still around him. He pressed his nose to her hair and breath in her scent.

“It took them a few months to figure out what happened.”

She tried to step away then. “You don’t have to tell me.”

He shook his head, pulling her back to him again. “It is my heart. Somehow it no longer works the way it should.” He never cared about the technicality. Knowing would not help. “They tried different medicine, and finally came up with …They don’t work all the time, but I tried to go without them and …”

“Fiyero…”

“Oz, you want to know the truth and now you don’t want to listen? You’re such a tease,” he said wryly, and he felt her soft breath on his skin as she gave a little laugh. He shut his eyes, feeling the way her ten digits splayed against his back, the warmth from her fingers, from her skin.

“They said that most probably I would not last beyond fifteen years. I’m afraid to die, Elphaba. I’m afraid that one day the medicine will stop working. The Arjikis already think of me as dead. My father… he has … I have a half-brother… and he brought him to Kiamo Ko. No matter how hard I try, everything is suddenly ‘Firoy this…’ and ‘Firoy that…’. You can see how the wind turned, how the people who used to say that I am the smartest boy they have ever seen suddenly said that Firoy is wise beyond his years, how much Firoy resembles my father. No one in Vinkus cares about me anymore, about what I do anymore. To the outside world, I am the crown prince, but everyone in Vinkus is waiting for me to die so that Firoy can be declared heir to the throne. Do you know what do they call me behind my back?”

She shook her head.

“They call me the heartless prince.”

**AN : So this is where the inspiration came from…. What if the Scarecrow is not without a brain, but without a heart (like the tinman)? At the beginning, Elphaba has called him heartless, which hit a raw nerve.  
I have told myself that I will post a fiyeraba one-shot for every 10 chapters of The Heartless Prince (since this is not really a happy story). So do look out for a one-shot coming soon. :) **


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you Antonita for your review. I hope that you'll like this chapter. :)**

Elphaba knocked on the door again. There was no response to her first round, and as she waited, her imagination began to run wild with the possibilities of what could have happened behind the door.

“Fiyero?” she called out.

She was about to knock again when the door opened, the prince’s pallid face behind it, his eyes puffy and red. She stepped into the room, and he lost whatever little strength he had and collapsed into her arms.

“I thought that you will never come,” he whispered weakly as she wrapped her arms around him to support him. 

Elphaba pulled him away and looked at his face. His face was pale, the tiredness written all over his face. His shoulders slouched as if he did not even have enough strength to hold himself up. He had looked much better when she left the night before, and she had thought that getting him to go to class would be a good idea. Obviously she was wrong.

“Perhaps you should take the day off.” She suggested as she turned him around and guided him slowly to his bed. “Have you taken your medicine? Is the pain still there?” Her hand went to his chest subconsciously, as if she had the ability to feel if his heart was working optimally.

And then Fiyero straightened as his hand covered hers and he was chuckling, and Elphaba realised that she had been had.

She wanted to be mad at him, but his pale face and faltering smile stopped her.

He was still holding her hand, and his thumb brushed over her wrist with a movement that brought a jolt to her heart.

“Don’t be mad,” he told her. “I’m feeling much better today, thanks to you.”

“I didn’t do anything.” She pulled her hand away, hoping that she had not blushed.

“Humble as usual.” He smiled widened, his voice stronger this time.

“Are you well enough to attend class today?” she asked, trying to change the topic.

“So long as you did not expect me to pay attention in class.” He added quickly when he saw the frown forming on her face. “It’s not as if I will live long enough to apply what I have learnt.” His nonchalant statement only served to deepen her frown.

“Come, join me for breakfast.” He leaned against his study table and tried to catch his breath.

She shook her head.

“Lunch?”

She shook her head again.

“Oz, Elphaba, how would you know if I am still alive if you don’t check on me?”

That frown again, her displeasure at his attitude to his illness showing.

“I’ll keep a lookout for you,” she promised.

“You can watch over me over breakfast,” he insisted as he pushed himself away from his desk with a huff. “You might be thin like a broomstick, but I’m sure you still need a hearty breakfast.”

“I’m not a broomstick.”

“And that’s why we’re going for breakfast,” he replied with a chuckle.

He chose one of the less busy cafés known for its strong coffee; it was either the strongest coffee on campus or wine, and Fiyero doubt that Elphaba would be happy to see him drinking so early in the day. The lack of customers meant that he did not need to put on his dancing-through-life façade and made small talk to anyone when he was not feeling up to it, and he did like the idea of spending some quiet moments with Elphaba before she rushed off to work.

“My treat, for saving my life,” he said when she tried to pay him back.

She frowned, and Fiyero wondered how she would react if he reached out then to smooth out the lines on her forehead. “Your life is worth more than a cup of coffee and pancakes, Fiyero.”

“One whole year of breakfast then?” he teased her, and it was a while before she realised that he was baiting her again. She rolled her eyes.

“Are you sure you are feeling alright?” she asked again.

“Nothing that a hearty breakfast and a strong brew of coffee can’t fix,” he replied, chinking his cup against hers.

The school came alive with the flow and chatter of the students as they made their way to their different destinations. Elphaba stopped at the junction just before the classroom block, an awkward pause between them as she gestured towards the general direction of Doctor Dillamond’s office.

“I’m meeting Galinda and Avaric for lunch.” He gave her the time. “We always sit next to the window. Galinda likes to be seen but she hates the sun.” He chuckled as he brushed his fingers against hers. “I’ll love it if you can join us.”

She shook her head. “I’ll see you around, Fiyero,” she said as she turned and walked away. But she did look back just before she turned the corner, and he knew then that she would pass by the café during lunch, if only to reassure herself from afar that he was still alive.

He knew that sometimes she would go past the classrooms while running errands for Doctor Dillamond, and he began to sit closer to the front so that he could see catch whenever she passed by. He loved to watch out for her expression, to guess if she was passing by because she was running one of her errands or if she was looking out for him. Most of the time, she would have a serious look on her face, her brows knitted together, deep in thoughts. Sometimes, there would be a tiny smile on her face, as if she had a little secret. He had naturally assumed that a guy had chatted with her a few minutes earlier when he saw that expression for the first time, perhaps someone who had flirted with her, who had brushed his fingers against her skin as he tried to get her to go on a date with him. And then he thought again and realised that most probably the smile stemmed from a compliment from Doctor Dillamond, or perhaps she finally found a book that she had been looking for in the library. Sitting in front also meant that he could not talk that much to his classmates, and Fiyero was surprised by how much more he could grasp when he was not distracted by side conversations. 

She dropped by his room at night if she was too busy during the day, searching his face for any sight of pain before she wished him goodnight. He began to wait for her every night, moving his couch so that it faced the open door, wanting to see her the moment she turned into the corridor. He asked about her day, trying to match it to the expression that he had seen hours before, hoping that the reason for her earlier smile was not due to a guy. He began to wish that she would hang around a while longer, not looking forward to the way his front door seemed to look dark and empty after she had disappeared from his sight.

“You’re leaving so soon?” he asked her one day just as she turned to leave. He reached for her, his fingers wrapping around her thin wrists easily.

“I have some reading to do.” She patted her bag.

“You can do it here,” he suggested. She raised her eyebrows. 

“Come in,” he began to speak faster, encouraged by the fact that she did not laugh at his suggestion. “You like my study table, don’t you?” He remembered the way she had hunched over the table, waiting for him to regain consciousness after he had passed out from the pain. “Or you can take the couch next to the fireplace. Or the rug if you prefer to sit on the floor. And I have a spare bedroom.” His room was a suite, with a spare bedroom for other family members or a butler. “There is another study table inside if you want some peace.”

“Come in,” he said again, a smile on his face as he pulled her into the room. “I’ve got something to show you.” And she stopped in her tracks.

He chuckled. “It won’t bite.”

She looked unconvinced.

“Remember the time where you posed for an art lesson? The workshop sent the painting back two days ago. You should look at it. It’s beautiful.”

She pursed her lips.

“Oh, come on. My painting skills cannot be that bad,” he teased her, knowing how she would respond.

“No, of course, that’s not what I meant,” she shook her head furiously, falling right into his trap.

He made an elaborate wave with his wave towards the empty bedroom. 

“After you,” he said with a wink.

The two paintings were propped against the wall. They were wrapped in brown paper and twine when they were delivered, and Fiyero had wrapped them up again after he had verified that they had sent the correct paintings to his place, not wanting anyone who dropped by unannounced to see them. He stepped back as he pulled away the paper with a dramatic flourish, revealing the painting.

It took her a while before she reacted. She took a step forward and reached out her hand, but paused when her fingers were mere inches from the canvas, as if the object before her was too valuable to be touched, as if it was so delicate that it would be destroyed with a single touch. And Fiyero was reminded of the times when she stopped to admire the paintings in the library, the way she tried to reach for the masterpiece called The Night Sky when she thought that no one was watching.

“You can touch it, you know,” he told her. “It won’t smudge.”

Elphaba shook her head as she dropped her hand. She stood where she was, her eyes moving across the canvas, taking in the strokes of paint, the different shades of grey, the vibrant splashes of red, violet and pink. And in the midst of all the colours was a green-skinned girl with long black hair.

If Elphaba did not know better, she would have thought that the girl who had posed for the painting was beautiful in real life.

“You’re very talented,” she said after a while, choosing her words carefully.

“I know.”

She turned and looked at him in surprise.

“Well, what do you expect? That I pretend to be humble about it?” He cocked his head as he looked back at her. “Did you get me confused with someone else?”

She chuckled softly as she shook her head.

“Thank you for showing me the painting, Fiyero. Goodnight.”

Fiyero pulled out the study chair instead and turned it to face her. “Not staying for my wonderful table and comfortable chair?” he feigned surprise as he pulled her to the chair. “Isn’t it much better to read here than to read in the dorm surrounded by all the noisy, chatty girls? You can have all the peace and quiet that you want here. Curfew is two hours away. Imagine two hours of reading in peace and quiet. I promise that I won’t disturb you.” He made a zipping motion across his lips and raised his hands as if in mock surrender and backed off slowly. 

He kept to his promise. He did not promise that he would not observe her when she was studying though.

“You’re not paying attention in class.” Those were the first words she said when she entered his room a few days later. The first thing he noticed about her was how tired she looked. Her eyes were bloodshot, and there was a leaf on her hair. It was almost curfew time (which Fiyero never adhere to), but she looked as if she had just left her workplace.

“Did you just knock off?” he asked.

“Don’t change the subject, Fiyero. You were looking out of the classroom whenever I walked past. The lecturer is inside the classroom, Fiyero, not outside.” Her shoulders drooped, and she dropped the books on his table with a loud thud, as if she had suddenly lost all her strength. They were Biology books, and suddenly Fiyero wondered if she was reading those books as part of her work or if she was reading them because of him.

He tore his eyes from the spine of the books.

“I was paying attention. Did you notice that I am now sitting in front? It’s only been a few weeks, but I can concentrate better now. I can understand what the lecturer is teaching.” He waved his mock exam paper at her, the impressive grade on the top right.

“So you’ve been paying attention?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, after you have finished your rounds.” The sun outside would illuminate her face, and he could see the way she always slowed down when she passed by the open door, the way her eyes tried to adjust to the dimness of the room and look for him. The way her stiff shoulders seemed to relax when she finally found him and was assured that he was still alive. She had no idea, but as the days passed, he found that he was unable to pay attention fully until he knew that the green girl had done her rounds at least once.

“It was just a coincidence, Fiyero. I just happened to walk by.” She picked up the books again and hugged them close to her chest, head looking down. Someone should tell her that her body language spoke volumes.

He grinned. No, he was not going to tell her. He stretched his limbs, knowing that she was looking at his legs from the corner of her eyes.

He wanted to tease her, wanted her to know that he knew that she was checking on him whenever she could, but there was something about her stance that night that stopped him. 

“Look, I’m fine. Look at me.” He spread his arms wide when she finally looked up. “As good as new. Much healthier than many of the people my age as a matter of fact.”

“How often do those… those… attacks happened, Fiyero?”

He shrugged again. “I don’t know. I never keep track.” But of course, he remembered the number of times it had happened since they first met in winter, too frequent for his taste. But Fiyero brushed the thought aside.

“What’s in the pills?”

“I don’t know.”

She took a step forward. “How could you not know, Fiyero? You’ve been taking these pills and they are supposed to keep you alive. How can you not know what is inside?” Her fingers clenched, her knuckles pale against the dark covers of the books.

“It does not matter. It’s working.” He saw the look on her face. “Well, almost working.”

“What if you’re allergic to something inside? What if one of the ingredients is not suitable and therefore causing the occasional relapse? What if - ” 

“Elphaba, I’m not a doctor. All these are beyond me. If I’m meant to die soon, then I will. There’s no use worrying.” She would not understand. She would not understand what it was like to be handed a death sentence, to have Death hovering behind your back all these years. The only way to pretend that you did not care, it did not matter and enjoy life to its fullest. To figuratively point a middle finger at Mother Soul before she pulled him into her embrace.

She stared at the books crushed to her chest and took a deep breath.

“Goodnight,” she said abruptly.

“Elphaba, you’re upset.”

“I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.” She sounded weary as if she was carrying the whole world on her shoulders.

He looked at the book in her arms, the way she held them close as if the books could stop someone from looking straight into her heart, and that was when the dark smudge on the cuff of her sleeve caught his eyes.

Fiyero stood up, his thumb sweeping against the cuff before he tipped her chin up. “Elphaba, what’s wrong?” Her eyes were bloodshot, and her nose was red.

She shook her head, her lips pursed.

“Elphaba.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Did someone bully you? Did Doctor Dillamond raise his voice at you?”

She shook her head again.

“Then what is it?”

She took a deep breath, and then another before she spoke again. “It’s … today is … it’s my mother’s birthday …”

An image came to him, of Elphaba sitting all alone on one of the benches along an unlit path between Doctor Dillamond's office and his dormitory. Her face was in her hands and her shoulders shaking with each fresh bouts of tears as fallen leaves swirled around her like a kaleidoscope of butterflies.

Somewhere inside him, something was pulling, tugging; he had no idea what it was.

He pulled her into his arms, the books crushed between them. 

He did not know what to say.

* * *

“Sweet Lurline, look at your eye bags!” Galinda exclaimed.

Elphaba hushed the blonde and quickly glanced behind to see if Doctor Dillamond was disturbed by the sounds. Thankfully he was so absorbed in his work that he did not even notice her arrival. Elphaba pushed the girl out of his office.

“Keep your voice down. Doctor Dillamond is in the midst of something.”

“And very engrossed in whatever he is doing,” the Gillikinese commented as she peeked into the Goat’s office.

Elphaba gave a faint smile. “He’s always like that. His job is his life. He’s into something pretty exciting.”

“Good for him,” Galinda commented before she turned her attention back to the green girl. “And what have you been doing? I have not seen you for just a few days and you look terrible! Is Doctor Dillamond making you work late?”

Elphaba shook her head. “No, he’s a good employer. The best.” She stifled a yawn.

“Not enough sleep? What have you been up to, Miss Elphie?” She struck a thoughtful pose. “Midnight dates?”

Elphaba laughed. “With books. I’ve been reading.”

“Oh, and I thought it’s a boy keeping you awake.”

The green girl laughed again. “No, not a boy.”

“Speaking of which, Simon would like to meet us for dinner this weekend.”

“Simon?” Elphaba’s eyebrows rose for a second before she remembered who he was. “Oh…. Him…”

“I think he likes you.”

“I think he’s being kind.”

“I know kindness when I see it, Elphie. And this is not it.” But Elphaba was not convinced.

“Look, I tell you what. I’ll bring a friend along. A double date.”

“Who?” Elphaba felt her cheeks turning hot.

“Avaric. You’ve met him before. Tall, blond, narcissist.”

Elphaba laughed again, trying to cover up the disappointment that she felt. Galinda’s face lightened up. “How about this? Don’t think of it as a double date. It’s a date - you and me.” That sent the blonde into giggles. She curled her hand around Elphaba’s arm. “Yes, you and me. A girl’s night out with chaperones. How about that?”

* * *

Fiyero was outside his classroom, with Pfannee and Crissa, discussing where to go for lunch when Pfannee frowned, her eyes looking at something behind the prince.

“Sweet Lurline, there she is again. Now I have lost my appetite for lunch.”

Fiyero looked back, and it took him a while to pick her out from the crowd, despite her hue. He smiled at her, and he knew that she had seen it when she blinked and tightened her grip on the stack of papers that she was carrying. She turned, a jerky movement, but the door closest to her opened and a flood of students came out, blocking her way.

“I think she got a crush on you, Fiyero. She has been walking past our class almost every day. And just yesterday, I saw her looking at you.” She giggled. ”I think she is obsessed with you.” She giggled again. “Oh, what a joke! The artichoke has a crush! Who does she think she is?” Crissa joined in the giggle.

Fiyero cocked his head as he looked at the two girls before him. Pfannee placed a hand on his arm, amused by what she thought was her clever quip and Fiyero pushed her hand away gently.

“She’s a human being, just like you and me,” he said, and Pfannee’s laughter stopped midway.

Fiyero looked at Elphaba again. The crowd had thinned, and she went in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me, ladies,” he gave a quick bow.

“But Fiyero, I thought we’re going for lunch together,” Crissa called out.

“Some other day,” he tossed back a reply.

He managed to catch up with her before she reached the end of the corridor.

“Hey. Let me help you.” He took most of the worksheets from her hands.

She gave him a faint smile.

“How are you doing?” 

“I’m fine.”

“Let’s go for lunch.”

She shook her head. It was strange, how she was able to talk so much sometimes when she was with him, but sometimes it was just shakes and nods.

“Why?”

She shook her head again, and it was a while before the words came out. “You have your friends, Fiyero.” She looked back at where he came from.

Fiyero turned back, and there were Pfannee and Crissa, staring at them.

He reached for her arm, a gentle brush.

“I’d rather have lunch with you.”

She shook her head again. 

“Why? Does seeing me make you lose your appetite?”

“Of course not.” Her eyebrows knitted slightly, not knowing if he was joking or if he was serious.

“Then what’s stopping you? What’s preventing us from having lunch together?”

“I’m busy.”

“We’ll have a quick bite then. Or we can eat in Doctor Dillamond’s office if he does not mind, I can walk fast.”

“Fiyero…”

He feigned a long-suffering sigh.

“Are we going to waste our lunchtime arguing if you should join me for lunch or should we just go for lunch?” There was a twinkle in his eye.

“I have another attack in my room last night,” he said when they finally settled down. Elphaba had vegetable soup, and Fiyero ordered a set meal so huge it took up most of the space on the table. 

She looked up, shock written all over her face, and she dropped her jaw when she realised from his grin that he was pulling her leg.

She looked down and took a sip from her soup. She did not even reprimand him.

“I thought you’re supposed to check on me. I…” 

Missed the times when you would drop by and spend some time in my room.

He cut his chicken into pieces and put a piece into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he looked at the girl who was concentrating so hard at her simple lunch. 

“Talk to me,” he said when he had swallowed the food in his mouth. “Tell me about your day. So how are you, Miss Elphaba?”

She finally looked up.

“I’m fine. How are you?” She looked at him intently.

“I’m feeling great. Fabulous. Stop talking about me. I’m the most boring person in Shiz,” he said, waving his fork in the air and was rewarded with a faint smile from the girl across the table. “How are you, Miss Elphaba? What strange theories and magical potions have you concocted in Doctor Dillamond’s office recently? What have you been reading? Is there any book that will interest someone who gets bored easily? Why is the sky blue and the grass green? Why does the water in the Suicide Canal look so enticing yet taste so terrible when I jumped in?” 

She chuckled softly and shook her head, amused by his volley of questions.

“You’re laughing.” He beamed. She stopped mid-chuckle, embarrassed.

“No…I mean… I’m not laughing at you. I like you when you’re serious, but ... you should laugh more often.” He reached out, fingers brushing against hers, but Elphaba pulled her hand away. 

“The food is turning cold.” She turned to her soup again, head lowered.

He pulled her bowl towards him, earning a startled look from her.

“You’ve stopped coming to my room,” he stated, glad that they were in a corner and no one could hear them. He wrapped his hands around the rapidly cooling bowl, letting her know that he would not give her back her lunch until she had answered his question. He pulled his lunch closer to him too, just in case.

“I didn’t promise that I’ll check on you every night.” She replied, her voice quiet. 

“It’s been one week.”

Suddenly, it was as if he was privy to her thoughts, or perhaps it was the expression on her face.

“Oh,” was all he could say.

One of Pfannee’s friends (or maybe a friend of her friend) had dropped by a week ago, her coat pushed off one shoulder, opened strategically to show how little she had worn inside, and came to his door offering a bottle of wine that she said was sent to her by her relatives, claiming that it was too pathetic to drink such fine wine alone. He had ended up in her bed once, on a night when Avaric and he had gone to Shiz Town with Pfannee’s girlfriends and drank far too much and had flirted endlessly. He remembered leaving in the middle of the night, feeling sheepish as he made his way back to his room. The girl had stayed outside his door for almost an hour chatting and had left disappointed when Fiyero did not invite her into his room, nor take up her offer to share the wine.

He pushed the bowl to her, and let her fingers touched its side before he wrapped his fingers gently around hers. At that moment, he did not give a damn if anyone saw.

Her fingers slipped away.

“If you think that it’s poison she was offering, no, I didn’t drink it,” he tried to trivialize the event, and then shook his head at his own stupid answer. 

Again, she was paying more attention to the food.

He reached for her hand, his thumb drawing a line from the centre of her palm to the pad of her fingertips. Her fingers were long, like his, but slender. Fingers that, if they were not separated by the table, he would bring to his lips.

“Are you free on Saturday? Let’s go somewhere for dinner.”

She took the last mouthful from her bowl and shook her head again.

“Why?”

She looked up briefly, then back to her bowl again.

“I’m meeting someone else.”

“Oh.” He hoped his voice was not reeking of disappointment. “Who?”

“Galinda.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind if I join you.” He knew that she would.

Elphaba shook her head again.

“We’re going out with her friends.”

“Elphie!” a familiar voice came from the door as if on cue.

Galinda floated in, gorgeous in a yellow dress and matching accessories and heels. She sat on the seat next to the green girl. 

“Elphie, why didn’t you tell me that you’re free for lunch?” she admonished the green girl good-naturedly. Before either one of them could respond, Galinda put a hand to her rose-painted lips.

“Oh yes, Yero. I forgot! Looks who’s here.” She pointed out of the window. Outside, surrounded by a few gawking students, was a dark-coloured carriage, a golden crest on its door. The driver came down from his seat, looked around and settled his eyes on Fiyero.

“Excuse me,” the prince said to his friends as he stood up. He went to the carriage, giving a brief nod to the driver who bowed low and greeted his prince when he was within hearing distance. Fiyero knew that everyone was watching him, trying to eavesdrop into their conversation. The driver opened the door and he went in, sitting opposite the two men who were inside.

“Father,” he greeted his father, his voice formal, “I’m surprised to see you.”

“Well, we were nearby and Firoy suggested to drop by to see you.” Fiyero nodded to other man, who gave a smile. Firoy, his half-brother, the future Arjiki king.

“How are you, Brother?” Firoy asked, his voice cordial. 

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Not in any trouble, I hope,” his father asked.

“Of course not, Father. You can check with Madame Morrible.”

“I will, after this.” Fiyero knew that his father would not hear any complaint from Madame Morrible. The school headmistress would overlook everything so long as the donations from his father kept coming.

“We won’t take long. We don’t want to disturb your lunch with your girlfriend. She’s pretty. Like the sun.” Firoy commented.

Fiyero laughed out loud. “Galinda? No, she’s not my girlfriend.” He looked at the café, and at that moment, Elphaba looked at his direction, looking for him though he knew that she could not see him in the dark of the carriage. He smiled to himself. Now that was a girl that he would want to be his.

The Arjiki king proceeded to update his son on the things that happened back in Vinkus. The part of the castle that needed to be fixed. The health of his mother. He passed him a gift from her, a scarf that she had knitted during winter.

The question about his health remained unasked.

“Have a safe trip, Father.” His father stretched out his hand when the one-sided conversation ended and Fiyero kissed on his ring as if he was just a commoner, and the man his king.

Whatever good mood he was in earlier on was totally gone as he slowly made his way back to the café. Galinda had her lunch in front of her, and the green girl was stacking up the papers. 

“I got to get back to work,” she explained.

“Let me walk you back,” he offered, as Elphaba shook her head.

“Please,” he added. Behind him, he could hear Galinda trying to put in a word with her lunch in her mouth. Damnit, he knew he sounded desperate, but the green girl gave a slight nod, and it was all that matter.

They walked in silence for a while. There was a gentle breeze, the sun was shining, and the birds up in the trees were chirping, but it was not enough to lift his mood.

“That was my father, and …” he gestured. “And his future heir, checking if I am dead.”

“Fiyero!”

He gave a bitter laugh, unable to help himself. But Elphaba stopped.

“Fiyero, you can’t keep thinking like this. You just can’t keep thinking that your life is going to end soon.”

“Then tell me how I am supposed to think. That’s the truth. They are just waiting for me to die. Everyone is. Even you.”

She took a step closer to him. “Fiyero, that’s not true, and you know it. Why would anyone want you to die? Why would I wish that on you?”

Somehow, at the back of his mind, he knew that he was being unreasonable, but he pushed that thought away. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me.” He turned and walked away without waiting for an answer.

* * *

She tried to concentrate on her book, but the chattering of the girls around her was simply too loud, or perhaps her heart was just not in it. She had gone to Fiyero’s room after she had knocked off, but he was not in. She went by again just before curfew time, but the door remained closed and no one answered the door. She closed the book with a sigh. Maybe she should go find him again. She looked around. Her dorm, shared with nineteen other girls, all students. They were the lucky ones. They might not have a private suite like Galinda, but at least their parents were able to afford the school fees.

Just then, something hard struck the window. A rock, by the sound of it. Sometimes, there would be boys who wanted to attract the attention of the girls who lived in the dormitory and it seemed like it was going to be one of those nights. A few of the girls jumped up in unison, their sleepiness gone in an instant. They rushed forward to open the windows, giggling themselves while trying to hush the giggles of their friends.

“Hello, who are you looking for?” one of them cooed softly, hoping that the dormitory mistress would not hear her. 

And then she heard the answer.

“Elphaba!”

The girls turned around and stared at her.

Oz. She did not need to look out of the window to know who it was.

And there he was, standing below the window, basking in the admiration of the girls upstairs. His hair was tousled and his shirt unbuttoned (the same shirt that he had worn when they met for lunch). The moment he saw her, he gave her a lopsided grin that had one of the girls upstairs squealing.

“It’s past curfew,” she said the moment they were close enough so that she did not need to speak above a whisper.

“Hi,” he replied, and she could smell the alcohol in his breath. 

“You’ve been drinking.” He nodded. “Went after class,” he said as if it would make her less angry with him. “I’m not drunk.” He tapped a finger right on the tip of her nose. “See?” But his legs suddenly buckled and Elphaba caught him as he swayed to the side.

“You need to rest,” she said as she turned him towards the direction of his dormitory. Fiyero wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they set off.

“I’m not drunk.”

“I didn’t say you are.”

“And I’m not dead. Not yet anyway,” he laughed at his own joke. “You know, I bet they already have my funeral planned out. Maybe if I sneak into Father’s study, I will find an envelope inside his drawer that said ‘Fiyero’s funeral’, with all the instructions inside. Maybe somewhere in the west wing, I’ll find a coffin with the Tiggular family crest carved on its sides, all polished and ready, waiting for me.” 

Elphaba was glad when they finally reached his room.

She made him brushed his teeth and changed out of his clothes. It was then that she saw it, the three diamond tattoos over his heart, seemingly glowing under the dim light.

He caught her looking at it. 

“Just three,” he said sadly. “It was my first set. I was supposed to get them every year on my birthday. ‘The first thing a king should have is a heart’, my father said. Well, I didn’t have one, so I didn’t get my next set on my next birthday. He dropped me.” He raised his closed hand and opened his fingers. “Just like that.”

Elphaba cupped his face, not knowing what to say.

“I have a heart, you know.” He held her hand, bringing it down to his tattoos. “Can you feel it?” And Elphaba did, his heart beating steady under her fingertips. She nodded.

“Have you taken your medicine today?” she tried to change the topic as she buttoned up his shirt, something to occupy her hands.

“Yes madam.” He gave her a grin as his eyes fluttered closed. “Good as new, madam.” He tried to give a salute.

Elphaba smiled. “Alright. Goodnight Fiyero.”

“Wait…” He pulled her to him, and she had to put a hand on his shoulder to stop herself from crashing onto him. He leaned close to her, his nose next to hers, his hands clutching desperately at her waist as his fingers twisted the fabric of her dress. “Don’t go. Don’t treat me as if I’m dead. Don’t write me off.” 

“I never treat you as if you’re dead, Fiyero.” Elphaba rested a hand on his cheek. He took that hand and kissed her fingers before his hand went back to her waist. He pressed his lips against the corner of her lips, his hand sliding down and drawing circles on her hip through the fabric of her skirt.

“Please stay,” he whispered against her lips, and Elphaba cupped his face again. “I never think of you as dead, Fiyero. But proving your virility is not the way to go either.” 

He chuckled softly as a hand tucked her hair behind her ear before he pressed his lips against hers again. At the corner of her lips. Moving in. His fingers buried themselves in her hair as he kissed her properly this time. A kiss, followed by another, like unceasing waves, and taking her breath away. She could feel his tongue brushed against her lip, the way he tilted his face as he deepened his kiss, and her fingers curled at the back of his neck subconsciously as she drowned slowly into him.

"Don't go," he pleaded, softer this time. "Please."


	12. Chapter 12

The restaurant that Galinda had chosen had a small stage for a three-man band, and the crowd had warmed up by the time they were there (late, no thanks to Galinda who had to look absolutely perfect before she left her room).

“The food is nothing to rave about, but the music rocks,” the blonde shouted in Elphaba’s ear as they took their seats. They sat in a semicircle, Galinda on her right and Simon on her left. Avaric was seated next to the blonde, oozing confidence that bordered on arrogance. 

A waiter came over promptly and took their orders. Elphaba knew that the price of the food was one of the factors that Galinda had taken into consideration when choosing the venue, and she was grateful for that. They decided on their food pretty quickly, no thanks to the limited menu, and the two blondes were moving to the music even before the waiter left with their orders, while Simon tapped a finger on his thigh. 

“So is this your kind of music?” he asked the green girl. She shook her head. Frex had never encouraged singing at home, and Nanny would only sing the few songs that she liked. But she told Simon about how the music in Shiz was different from the music that she grew up hearing in Munchkinland. She told him about the songs sung by the farmers as they toiled under the sun, their voices floating down the fields, smooth like a stream. She talked about the lullabies hummed by mothers as they did their chores around the house, a baby at their hips, and the folk songs sang by grandparents to their grandchildren, many of the words forgotten. There were, of course, a few raunchy ones, but most of the songs were about nature, about the four seasons, the wind and the sun, and the moon and the stars. And how, when queried, the oldest of the older folks would say that they learnt the songs from their parents or grandparents, whom in turn had learnt it from their grandparents. The songs were ancient, young and ageless. 

“Maybe you should go up and sing one of the Munchkinlander songs when the band goes for their break. Someone is bound to go up and sing, and I would rather it be you than anyone else,” Galinda suggested.

“Not even me?” Avaric asked as he draped an arm across the back of her seat. 

“Yes, not even you! You’re the last person I’d want to see up there!” the girl squealed as she gave him a friendly shove. Avaric shrank away from her as he covered his upper arm with his other hand, his eyes bulging in fake horror.

And Elphaba thought that he was not that bad after all.

Their food came soon after, piping hot.

“Maybe I should go up and sing instead,” Galinda said, looking wistfully at the stage as the band stepped down for their break.

“Just when I thought that it is going to be a good night,” Avaric rolled his eyes, not giving up the opportunity to get back at her, and Galinda gave him a punch on his shoulder that did not hurt at all. He laughed, and then looked around the place and scanned the crowd. The door to the restaurant opened, admitting a guest, and Avaric stopped his people watching.

“Galinda is right. Maybe you should go up and sing. There are a few Munchkinlanders here, and I think they’ll be glad to hear one of their songs,” Simon suggested.

“See? Even Simon thinks that it’s a brilliant idea,” Galinda gave a smug grin. She tapped on the green girl’s wrist, who shook her head. “Yessssss. Quick! Think of a song!” Her gesturing stopped when a shadow fell across their table. She looked up, and her bright smile dropped. 

Avaric suddenly became very, very interested in his steak knife, turning it left and right and testing out the sharpness of its blade against his thumb, pretending not to notice the daggers that Galinda shot at him.

“Hi,” Fiyero said, his hands in his pockets. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“We’re having our dinner.” Galinda gave her eyes a break. “What’s so important that you must talk to her now? Can’t you wait?” 

He let out a huff.

“You can talk to her here then,” Galinda suggested, placing a hand possessively on Elphaba’s.

The prince ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s something personal, Galinda.”

“We’ve been friends for years. So there are now things that I’m not supposed to know?”

The prince cast a glance at Simon.

Elphaba placed her other hand on top of Galinda’s, patting it.

“It’s alright, Galinda. Just give us a minute. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Galinda narrowed her eyes momentarily before she lifted a finger. One minute. And not a second more.

Elphaba stood up, and Fiyero led the way to an empty corner at the other side of the room, his hand gentle on the small of her back. The band had come back from their break, and they started on another piece, the crowd’s cheering drowning out her voice just as she started to speak. She leaned against the wall as she waited for the cheering to die down, and Fiyero took a step closer, closing the gap between them. Under the dim lights, he could see the shine of lip gloss that Galinda must have applied on her. He subconsciously dipped his head, wondering if it would be strawberry that he would taste, or melon or something else. His fingers twitched, aching to touch her, to tip her chin up. Wanting her to wrap her arms around his neck and kissed him back and buried her fingers into his hair as she pressed her body against his. He lifted his hand, fingers brushing against her waist.

She looked up, not for a kiss, but to repeat her question.

“So what did you want to say?”

Damn.

He let out a breath.

"I wrote a letter today. Sent it. Back to Vinkus. I asked what's in the pills. Just like what you wanted." He made up his mind when he was lying on his bed that afternoon, staring at the couch where the green girl had spent the night with her head resting on an arm and her legs folded against her chest. He had wondered if she could be right, that there might be something that would work for him after so many years. Wondered if she could possibly be an angel sent by one of the Vinkun gods, bearing good news and giving him his happy ending.

He expected her to be thrilled on hearing the news, but she frowned, her knitted brows accentuated by the shadows cast by the lights.

“What’s the matter? You don’t seem happy about it. Isn’t it what you want?”

She looked away for a moment and collected her thoughts before turning back to him.

“I’m glad to hear that, Fiyero,” she said, a smile plastered on her face. It was the first fake smile that he had ever seen on her face, the first time that he had ever seen her pretending. And there she was, not hiding her emotions, but faking it. She moved to leave, and he grabbed her by her arm.

“No, you’re not glad. You’re … what’s wrong?” He had thought that she would be happy to hear the news, happy that he had done something for her, just like what all the other girls wanted. But perhaps he was wrong.

Her shoulders drooped.

“It’s nothing. It’s just…” she gestured helplessly. “I don’t want you to do it because … don’t do it for me. It’s your life we’re talking about. Do it for yourself. Because it’s your life. There’s only so much the people around you can help you if you don’t want to help yourself.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I guess I am asking for too much.”

“Alright, I’m doing it for you and myself. Doing it for myself because what you said make sense - I should know more about what I have been taking. And perhaps things had changed since then. There might be a better medicine for me. Alternatives.” 

"An elixir," he said with a laugh. She did not laugh or smile, but she did not walk away either.

He reached for her hand, and she let him.

“Why don’t you like it when someone does something for you?” he asked softly.

“I don’t need anyone to do anything for me.” 

“I didn’t say that it’s a need. All the girls like it when I do something for them.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need you to do anything for me. I don’t want you to do anything for me.”

“But why?”

“Fiyero. I don’t need you to please me. You don’t have to.”

“But what if I want to. Not to please you. But I like it when you are happy. When you smile…”

“Why?” she blurted out.

He chuckled. “Oz, this is the first time a girl asked me such a question.” He said, his fingers brushing against her cheek, and he felt, rather than saw her blush. Oz, was this the same girl who had let him kiss her last night?

“What am I supposed to do about you?” he admitted.

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned and found Avaric standing behind. He had no idea how long his friend had been standing there, listening.

“What am I supposed to do about you?” the Gillikinese parroted.

“What do you mean?”

“Galinda wants you to keep your hands to yourself, so let’s do it.”

“What?”

“Come on, help me out. I got a vested interest here. She said that she will skin me alive if you keep touching her friend. _My_ skin.”

Fiyero looked across the room, and here she was, staring back at him as if he was a cat and she had caught him with a canary in his jaws.

He dropped his hand, sliding it down her arm and felt her fingers curl as if she was trying to stop his hand from slipping off.

He would have interlocked their fingers and led her out of the restaurant if Avaric had not coughed indelicately at that moment.

“I suppose I got to stop a murder from happening,” he told her, and was rewarded with a soft chuckle.

“Who was that?” Simon asked when they were alone; Galinda and Avaric were a distance away, trying to get a cab.

“A friend.”

“And he happens to be Prince Fiyero Tiggular?”

Elphaba was surprised. The room was not exactly bright enough.

“So I was right?” He asked. “No wonder there were so many people watching the two of you.” She had not realised it.

Simon gave a sad smile. “You won’t be the first girl who is crazy about him.”

They dropped Simon off at his accommodation which was along the way before the cab brought the three friends back to Shiz. 

As they walked towards the dormitory, Galinda told Elphaba about the first time she plucked up the courage and went on an open stage to sing.

“And that was when I realised that a terrible voice is a deal-breaker, no matter how pretty the girl is,” Avaric chipped in, laughing at his own joke.

“Avaric!” 

“Hey, isn’t that the reason why you’re still single? That screeching voice can give even grown men nightmares, you know.”

Galinda huffed. “I am single because I am still looking for a decent man. There’re plenty of men in this world, but how many of them can function normally without his butler?”

Avaric guffawed. “You got me. I still have difficulty in differentiating my left and right shoes on most mornings. Oh, look who’s there.” He pointed. A lone figure sat on the wooden bench a stone’s throw from the girl’s dormitory, staring at the ground. He looked up when he heard the trio approaching and stood up, his hands tucked into his pockets just like hours earlier.

Avaric hooked his arm around Galinda’s and pulled her away.

“Didn’t you say that you want to skin me alive?” he announced loudly. “Let’s go and find a nice corner for the skinning. I can’t wait.”

She tried to yank her arm away, but Avaric tightened his grip, and Galinda felt herself being pulled in the opposite direction of where she wanted to go.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She hissed as she found herself losing the battle against the boy's brute strength.

Avaric looked behind them. Fiyero stood before Elphaba, and the prince took off his jacket wordlessly and draped it over her shoulders.

“Cultivating trouble,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be resting?” Elphaba asked. She was not cold, but the jacket gave her the additional warmth that she did not know was missing and surrounded her with his scent. He adjusted the lapel of his jacket, his fingers brushing against her neck, and she was transported back to the night before, his hand on her neck, a lock of hair twirled around his finger as he moved his mouth hot against hers.

“Have you had your dinner?” she asked him. She hoped that he could not see her blush.

“Yeah. Just me. All alone.” He shrugged. “So did you have a good time?” he asked, changing the topic.

She nodded. “You should have stayed. I’m sure that Galinda would not mind.”

He shook his head. “I’m not exactly in her good books recently.”

“Why?”

“She thinks that you’re too good for me.” 

Elphaba gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “She’s joking. She’s a good friend. Our good friend.”

Fiyero agreed. “The best anyone can have.” He remembered when the blonde first found out about his illness. The one and only time he saw her lose control of her calm facade. She had cried then. And she had put on a brave front after that. She knew how easily rumours could spread, and how the revelation of his illness could render the Vinkun political situation as stable as a house of cards, and she had worked with Avaric to ensure that no one would question his occasional unexplained behaviour and whenever he was absent from lessons or events. She was his comrade, his cheerleader, guarding his secret fiercely by keeping the lies alive. Not the same response that Elphaba gave, but both were equally passionate about it.

“Let’s go and catch the sunrise,” he suggested, wrapping his fingers around hers. Did she realise how warm her hands were?

“What?” Her eyes widened.

“I knew of just the place. It has an unobstructed view of the east. We can see who’ll be the first to catch the first glimpse of the sun.”

“But it’s hours to sunrise!” Her surprise remained.

“Are you tired?”

She shook her head. “You need to rest.”

“I can sleep anywhere.” Something in his voice made her smile, and he felt his own smile forming.

“You’re crazy,” she commented, shaking her head with a smile.

“So the answer is still a no?” He tried his luck again.

“No. There’s no class tomorrow, but I think we both need to get sufficient sleep.”

“The mature, rationale one,” Fiyero declared. 

“I’ll meet you for breakfast,” she offered instead, and Fiyero could not help but chuckled.

“Alright, breakfast tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at eight. You can decide on the place.” He walked backwards as he said that, wanting to leave before she changed her mind.

Elphaba watched as the prince backed away from her, a wide grin on his face. It made her wonder, why he could be so happy just because she agreed to meet him for breakfast. Why a word from her could make him look at his current state of life with fresh eyes. Fiyero stumbled over a rock, and he laughed at his own clumsiness and blew her a kiss to let her know that he was alright before he turned around and face the right direction. He turned around again, waved to her, his bright smile lighting up his face before he continued his way and disappeared from her sight.

She should go back to the dormitory and do some reading before the lights went off. She took her first step toward the dormitory and then stopped.

Fiyero turned around when he heard sounds behind him. There, a distance away, was a familiar figure, struggling to catch up with him. He should have gone to her, but he stood there, dumbstruck. 

“So where is this place where we can catch the sunrise?” she asked when she was within earshot.

This time, it was he who was surprised.

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

She reached for his hand. She locked their fingers and looked him in the eye. 

“I’ve changed my mind.”


	13. Chapter 13

“So what did I miss?” Galinda asked. 

The two girls were seated on the grass at the Suicide Canal. The place was almost empty; most of the students were either in town for the weekend or sleeping late even though it was almost noon.

Elphaba stifled a yawn.

“Sorry,” she apologised. “I didn’t sleep well.” The truth was that she had barely slept. Fiyero had snuck her into the library and led her to the balcony where they had met so many months before. She had tried to stay awake, trying to keep sleep at bay by telling him about her parents, about Nanny. In turn, he had told her about the other schools that he had studied in, the teachers and the schoolmates, the troubles that he had gotten into. And the next thing she knew he was shaking her shoulder gently, waking her; she had somehow fallen asleep, her head resting against the crook of his neck, warm in his arms.

“You spent the night with him.” The blonde’s tone was accusatory.

“We went into the library to catch the sunrise. But we fell asleep and totally missed it.”

Galinda shook her head. “That’s so Fiyero isn’t it? All he needs is to do something silly and the girls just go gaga all over him.” She made a face.

Elphaba could only shake her head and chuckle softly.

She knew that it would not be possible between them. The prince was handsome, charming, and the centre of every girl’s attention. A boy like him would never be interested in a girl like her in the first place, let alone sustaining his interest for long. He would most probably find his attention caught by another girl soon enough. And if the doctors were right… Elphaba shivered, even though the sun was shining, and the air was warm. But how could she explain to Galinda, when even she herself could not fathom why she would inevitably find her path leading back to him whenever she tried to walk away, the attraction stronger than before? How would Galinda understand that no matter how fleeting it was, it was what she wanted, even if she knew deep down that there would be a price to pay later?

* * *

He turned up at Doctor Dillamond’s office on Monday.

“Good afternoon, Doctor,” he called out loudly, and flashed her a smile with a softer hello.

“Good afternoon, Mister Tiggular. I apologise for the mess. Please make yourself comfortable.” the Goat replied and went back to his work after that. Fiyero nodded. He perched himself upon one of the stools and took out his notepad to work on his essay. His seat was at the centre of Elphaba’s work area, and she found herself walking past him several times in the next hour. The green girl thought that he was just waiting for the Doctor to take a break, but the two continued with their work without talking to each other, and she could not contain her curiosity after a while.

“What are you doing here?” He twirled to face her the moment he heard her whisper, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Studying.”

“In Doctor Dilllamond’s office?”

He nodded.

“This is not a study area, Fiyero.”

“I got permission,” he whispered, gesturing to the professor with his chin. “I’ve been thinking. You’re always trying to peek into the classrooms to look for me, so why don’t I just come over when my class is over? You’ll get to see me then, and it’ll save you a lot of time. And I get to see you too.” He took her hands, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles.

“And you told the professor all that?” she asked, trying to keep the blush from creeping up her cheeks.

He shook his head.

“I told him there’s some girl who is very persistent and I can’t avoid her no matter where I go. He’s hesitant of course, but I promised him that I won’t disturb either of you.” He took a quick look behind her where the Goat was, still engrossed in his own research. “So let me get back to my studies before he realised that I have broken my promise.” 

He went back to his homework and turned around again barely a second later, the corners of his eyes wrinkled with his smile.

“Am I distracting you?”

“Of course not!” she spluttered, but her flaming cheeks said otherwise.

* * *

It had been a week since Fiyero started to camp at Doctor Dillamond’s office on the pretext that he was hiding from a female stalker. It was strange to see the other side of him, the way he could focus on his work while she and Doctor Dillamond busied around him. He sat on the same stool for hours and took breaks occasionally to stretch his limbs. He listened when the Goat and the girl discussed their work but took his promise seriously and kept quiet unless he was asked for his opinion. He packed up when she did at the end of each day, taking her bag from her before he said goodbye to the doctor. They usually had dinner on campus, and then one day he surprised her by suggesting a different venue.

“What?” Did she hear wrongly?

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?” You don’t believe that I can cook?”

She shook her head. She had never thought about it and she admitted as much. 

“I’ve just received a package from my cousin. His spices are so good they can turn anyone into a master chef. And you,” he tapped on her nose, “are the lucky one who will get to witness yours truly prepare a sumptuous dinner for two with the Tiggular family's secret recipe.”

“I’ll get to see it.”

“Yes. Don’t you think that you’re the luckiest girl in the world?”

“Yero, your family secret recipe will no longer remain a family secret if I get to see you cook,” Elphaba noted as she folded her arms across her chest.

“Ah yes, but that’s because I intend to kill you after dinner,” he deadpanned, and Elphaba rolled her eyes. “But of course, there’s always the other alternative that we can explore.” 

“Alternative?” He nodded. “What alternate?” 

“Make a guess.”

She shook her head after thinking for a while. Fiyero smiled at her perplexed look and took a step closer.

“I think you’ve been working too hard,” he said, the mischief still in his eyes as he cradled her face, his voice soft and golden as the evening light. “What alternative can I go for if I’m not going to kill you and the family secret is going to be kept within the family?” Her eyes widened at the hint. 

“Oh...” She went a shade darker when she realised what he meant. Fiyero chuckled as he traced a line from her cheekbone to her jaw before he brushed his thumb against her lips.

“Definitely working too hard,” he repeated as he tilted his face, admiring the flush on her face as his eyes drifted subconsciously to her lips, those tantalizing grey lips of hers. 

He wanted to kiss her. He really did. And he knew that she would let him if he did. But he hesitated. He had always been the one who initiated a kiss, and while she had never resisted, she had never asked for one, or kissed him on her own accord, and he had an idea why. It had always been so easy to read the other girls, to know what they want. Elphaba had never hidden her thoughts and feelings, but yet he found her most difficult to read when it comes to figuring out how she felt and what she wanted. He wondered if there was something stopping her, something about him that stopped her from really trusting him. 

He kissed her on her cheek instead. One day, she would kiss him. It would happen when she was ready, when he had somehow proven himself, when he had erased all doubts from her mind. He could not wait for that day to happen, but he knew that he could not rush her. Would not rush her.

“Wait,” he suddenly remembered. He dug his hand into his bag, and it took him a while before he found it. He had put it into his bag two nights ago and had totally forgotten about it. He pressed it into her palm before closing her fingers. The object was cold and hard, and Elphaba opened her fingers to see what it was. She looked at him questioningly.

“A key.” 

“It’s a spare,” he said as if that explained everything.

“A spare key.” She still did not understand.

He rocked on the balls of his feet. “It’s the key to my room.”

The worst-case scenario sprung into her mind. “No, Yero. You’re not going to get another attack.”

“No. It’s not for that purpose,” he burst out laughing as he pushed it back to her. “You’re impossibly dense.” 

“No, I’m not.”

“Adorably dense.” He shook his head in disbelief, chuckling to himself. He turned to leave.

“Come on, I’m hungry. And a hungry cook is an angry cook.”

* * *

Elphaba was on her way back to Doctor Dillamond’s office when she heard somebody called her name.

“Miss Thropp. Can I have a word with you?”

She turned around. It was Madame Morrible.

“Yes, Madame?”

“Miss Thropp, I know that you’re around the same age as our students and it’s inevitable that you will befriend some of them. There is also no policy forbidding you from being friends with them. But you are a staff after all, and sometimes a staff has to be very careful when you are mixing with students – you never know if they are out to gain favours for their studies or if they have some ulterior motive. They might pretend to be your friend. They might even pretend to be more than friends. I hope you know what I mean. I’ll be careful if I were you though, the wrong_ friend_ might just cost you your job.”

Elphaba stood speechless as the headmistress walked away. She had not expected that. Sweet Lurline, she did not even know if there were any school rules explicitly forbidding any relationship between a staff and a student. She had not looked for such a clause when she was handed a copy of staff handbook when she first joined, simply because she had not thought of making friends with any of students, let alone growing close to any of them. 

She stood there, a thousand thoughts running through her mind. What was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to stop talking to Galinda and Fiyero, stop having dinners with them? What if she continued? Would her actions get Doctor Dillamond into trouble? Was Doctor Dillamond already in trouble for letting Fiyero study in his office? A student knocked against her shoulder as he walked past, and Elphaba did not even notice it. 

The sudden warm touch on her arm surprised her, and she nearly dropped the books she was holding. A pair of strong hands spun her around, pulling her into his arms with the books crushed between them.

“Hey,” he greeted her with a smile. “I know that we’re supposed to meet after class, but that doesn’t mean that you can ignore me when I walked past. Twice.”

Elphaba pulled herself away, fumbling with the books. “I’m sorry,” she apologised, more to the books than to him. “I was just thinking.”

“And I’ve called you so many times.”

“Sorry.”

He reached for her wrist. “What’s wrong?”

She looked up. 

“You’ve never apologised so many times before.” He chuckled at her shocked expression. “If this is a sign of hunger, then I’m going to insist that we go for dinner right now.” He reached for her books and then stopped, a frown on his face.

He pulled her to a corner, away from the crowd.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again, this time softer than before.

Elphaba looked away. “Nothing.”

“Elphaba, I may be stupid …”

“You’re not stupid.”

“Now I’ve got your attention.” He smiled sadly. “Something’s bothering you.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Elphaba, I’m not that oblivious. It’s written all over your face. Do you know that you’re terribly bad at hiding your emotions?”

She let out a pent-up breath.

“Nothing…”

“But?”

“It’s Madame Morrible.”

“What did she do?”

“She didn’t do anything… she said…”

His frown deepened; he knew how much harm thoughtless words could do, his own thoughtless words had nearly ruined whatever he had between him and Elphaba, and Madame Morrible never one to mince her words (unless the other party was a rich parent). He waited for her to form the sentence.

“She told me that there is no school policy forbidding staff from mixing with students.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’m sure that’s not the reason why you’re bothered.”

“She warned me that I might lose my job if … “ she pursed her lips, unwilling to continue further.

“And you’re bothered because you want there to be an _us_.”

Sweet Lurline. Maybe it was the way he phrased it, maybe it was because he was standing so close to her and she could smell the scent that he was wearing, or maybe the way his hand rested on her arm, the way his touch made the butterflies in her stomach come alive, and she felt her face darkened. 

"Elphaba." He leaned closer to her, his lips so close to hers. His hands went to her waist, and she could feel the warmth from his body. "She's not going to stop us." He felt her shivered, the way a tremble ran through her body and off her fingertips and into him. He wanted to seal his promise with a kiss. He wanted her to simply move into his arms and rest her head against his chest, to let him know that she trusted him totally and she knew that he would make sure that everything would be alright. But she did not.

“Elphaba.” He tightened his grip on her. “There is no rule against a student and staff together. I'll leave Shiz if she tries to be funny. I’ll leave Shiz. I’ll go to some other University. I’ll stop studying. I won’t put your job in jeopardy.” But he hoped that it would not go down to that. At that moment, he could not imagine an arrangement where he would not see her every day. She nodded slightly, unconvinced, and Fiyero wished that he could do more for her.

This girl was a drug, far more addictive than anything he had ever encountered.

* * *

“So you’re really here,” Galinda said the moment her eyes landed on the prince.

“Hi, Galinda. Both Doctor Dillamond and Elphaba are out for a class. They will be back soon.”

“So what are you doing here?”

“Studying.”

“Fiyero, why don’t you just stop it?”

“Stop what?”

“Stop toying with Elphaba.”

“What makes you think that I’m toying with her?” he stood up, his hands clenching.

“What makes you think that you’re not? She’s not your type. She’s too good for you. She does not deserve to get caught in your web and then toss aside when you’re bored of her.”

“I’m not toying with her. I... Galinda, you won’t believe me, but I’m serious about her.”

“Serious? I don’t even know that word exists in your dictionary, Yero.” The scepticism was all over her face.

“Why must you be so against us together? Why can’t you believe that I am not playing with her feelings?”

“I’ll believe you the day I see a monkey fly.”

Fiyero laughed. 

“Alright then,” she folded her arms. “I’ll give you a chance to convince me. Tell me, why should I believe that you will not get bored after a while and dump her?”

“I don’t know how to convince you. But I won’t. And I don’t know why.” He waved his arms around. “If only it can be so easily explained. But I can’t explain it. I don’t think she can, either.” He ran his hand through his hair, trying not to let his frustration show.

Galinda searched his face. “Lurline, you are serious. And what’s going to happen when she …”

Fiyero’s shoulders dropped. “I… she knows.” He added at the sight of her widened eyes. “And she knows what it means. And she didn’t walk away.”

Elphaba was surprised to see Galinda in Doctor Dillamond’s office when she was back.

“Galinda, what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” she replied as she hopped off the stool, closing the magazine in her hands. “Elphie, it’s been such a long time since we have gone out for dinner. I’ve just handed in that project that has killed so many of my brain cells, so let’s go out on Friday to celebrate.” She paused for a moment before she looked at the prince. "Perhaps Fiyero can join us too."

* * *

She looked out of the window. Fiyero’s class had ended almost an hour ago but there was no sign of him. She wondered if he was asked to stay back by a lecturer. They would be going to town for dinner that night, the first time the four of them were going out together. Fiyero had joked that morning that he felt as if he was going to meet her parents and then apologised immediately when he remembered that her mother had passed away and her father never kept in touch.

She saw him in the distance. He had his shades on, and he looked as if he was drunk, staggering as he made his way to Doctor Dillamond’s office. He heaved as he took another step, and Elphaba knew immediately what had happened.

“Doctor Dillamond,” she ran to the doctor who was peering into his microscope , a stack of chipped slides next to it. “I have to leave early today. Is that alright?” The Goat looked up, his eyes trying to focus on his assistant. “Is everything alright?” he spoke slowly.

“Yes, I just need to run an errand. I’ll make it up next week.” The words rushed out. She looked behind her, but she could no longer see Fiyero from where she was. 

“There’s no need for that, Miss Elphaba. I’ll see you next week. Have a great weekend.” The doctor turned back to his work, and Elphaba was out of the door before the Goat even put back his glasses.

His skin was cold and clammy, and he hissed when she wrapped her arms around him before he rested his head on her shoulder.

“Have you taken your medicine?”

“Got to… “ he took another shallow breath. “… see … you… first.”

She swore as she turned him around. “Good … girls… don’t… don’t … swear…” and she had to chuckle at his attempt at joking despite the pain.

They were almost at his door when Avaric appeared at the other end of the corridor.

“Great Oz! Drunk before sunset?” he greeted them cheerfully, giving his friend a pat on his back.

Fiyero was in too much pain to answer, and before Elphaba could say anything, the expression left the Gillikinese’s face and he took over after a quick glance showed that no one was watching. He barely batted his eyelids when Elphaba fished out Fiyero’s keys from her bag and opened the door.

Avaric sat Fiyero on the bed while Elphaba looked for the glass bottle that she knew was in the drawer, taking out two pills for him.

“Go,” he said weakly when he popped them into his mouth. “Alright,” Avaric backed off with his hands raised, but Elphaba ignored the command.

“Come on, sugar babe, he’ll be fine.” The blond tapped on her shoulder.

Fiyero responded before Elphaba could. “Don’t call her… that…” he said, every word laced with pain. 

“Oscar’s ass, you’re possessive,” he said.

“I’ll stay,” Elphaba replied, her eyes not leaving Fiyero as she lowered him onto his bed.

"He does not want anyone to be here. He'll just sleep anyway. He's not cute when he sleeps. He drools," Avaric warned her as he drew a line from the corner of his mouth with a finger.

“I’ll stay,” she repeated, softly this time. She watched his eyes flittered close, and then she turned to Avaric.

“Avaric, can you please look for Galinda? I don’t think Fiyero will be able to go out for dinner tonight.”

"Sure, sug -" he caught himself at the last moment. "I'll let Galinda know. She'll kill me if she spent all the time dressing up with no place to go." He said cheerfully as he turned to the door.

The two Gillikineses came back later and let themselves into the room quietly. Fiyero was sleeping, or unconscious, she did not know, but his skin was less clammy, and his breathing seemed better. She accepted the food that they had bought for her, and then Avaric opened one of the cupboards, revealing the Arjiki’s secret stash and helping himself. Elphaba declined the offer, but Galinda took a glass wordlessly and nursed over it, deep in thoughts.

* * *

She knocked on his door, looking around her. There was no one in the corridor. There was no reply, and, for a moment, her fingers dug subconsciously into the pocket inside her bag and fingered one of the keys. She had only used that key once, one week ago, when she brought him back to his room with Avaric. She took a deep breath, counted to ten, and knocked on the door again. This time, the door opened within seconds, revealing Fiyero with his hair wet and his shirt rumpled.

“Hey.” He smiled at the sight of her, pulling at his shirt to straighten it. “I was in the shower.” 

He pulled her in by her wrist, and she wondered if the coldness on his skin was due to the shower that he just had, or if it was like the paleness on his face that did not go away, a lingering sign of his latest attack. She brought her hand up and cupped his face, and he smiled.

“Miss me?” 

She shook her head. “Are you feeling alright?” He nodded, covered her hand with his and brought it to his lips. “Feeling great now that you’re here. You could have just let yourself in.”

She shook her head again. He had given her the spare key to his room, but she told herself that it was only for an emergency. She was sure that Avaric or Galinda had a key to his room too, though she had never verify it with him.

“So which campus café are you going to torture me with today?” he teased.

“Fiyero!”

He chuckled and brushed his lips on the palm of her hand. “Let me get a jacket.”

Elphaba leaned against his study table as he looked through his wardrobe, trying to look for a matching jacket when she noticed a letter on the table. The envelope was in white, the penmanship stilted, as if it was written by someone who was not used to writing the Ozian letters. It was addressed to His Royal Highness, Prince Fiyero Tiggular. There was another line of writing at the bottom of the envelope, one curvy letter flowing into the next, the calligraphic tails trailing like the flames of a candle. Her fingers itched towards the envelope. She wondered who had sent him the letter. She wondered if it contained the reply to the question that he had sent off weeks ago.

“Ready to go?” he asked, pausing when he noticed that her attention was elsewhere.

He shook his head, answering the question in her eyes.

“It’s not the reply that you’ve been waiting for.”

She traced the calligraphy on the envelope.

“What language is this?”

“It’s Arjiki,” the prince told her.

“I’ve never seen it before.”

“That’s because no one ever bothers to use it outside of Vinkus – our language is unimportant in the eyes of the civilized world.” Though he wished that it were otherwise. Though he was familiar and used to the Ozian language, the sight of Arjiki words on a box or cargo never failed to bring a pang of homesickness to his heart. He noticed the way her finger traced the curves and dips of each word.

“What does it say?” She asked, mesmerised.

“It’s the Tiggular family motto, and now also the motto of the Arjiki people.” He spoke his family motto in Arijiki, words that he had recited tens of thousands of times, the motto that constantly reminded him of what he lacked to serve his family and people. “It means ‘One heart, one people’.” He was not surprised when Elphaba repeated the words effortlessly after him. 

“I didn’t know that you are a linguist,” he teased her as he guided her out of the door, trying to push the dark clouds out of his mind. He shared a few more Arjiki words as they left the dormitory – tree, flower, clouds, grass - and she absorbed the information like a sponge. He threw in a few additional words – cups, table, food, bed, sleep, swim – before he tested her. He laughed when she scrunched up her face as she tried to recall the right word and the correct way to pronounce it. She only got one wrong.

“Let me teach you something more difficult. I bet you won’t be able to repeat it.”

“Try me,” she challenged him, a hand on her hips.

Fiyero pulled her to him and broke into a tavern song about a brood of chickens that broke out of their coop and created mayhem in town. She might not understand the words, but the quick tempo and the mimicked sounds of the farm animals next to her ear were enough to send her into fits of uncontrollable laughter. Her laughter filled the air, accompanied by his. She tried to step away, but Fiyero’s arm around her made it impossible. He repeated the chorus again and she collapsed into his arms, her hands gripping his shirt tightly as she pressed her mouth onto his shirt.

“Stop it. Stop it.” She told him between heaves. “Please.” Fiyero chuckled at her helplessness, but he did stop.

“So did you manage to remember any of the words?” he asked when she had finally composed herself. She shook her head, a hand to her mouth to stop herself from erupting into another round of laughter. She buried her face onto his shoulder, her body shaking as she recalled the clucking sounds that he had made.

“That’s not fair, Yero,” she told him after a while.

“But it’s fun,” he had to admit. He cupped her face, which was still red from all the exertion. “You can always sing some Munchkin animal song if you want to.”

She took her head as she rubbed her palms on her face to dry the tears.

“Your shirt’s wet.” 

Fiyero kissed her on her forehead.

“It’s alright, it’ll dry soon. One last phrase.” Her eyes widened. “Nothing raunchy, I swear.”

She nodded, and repeated after him when he was done. 

“You just referred to me as a girl,” he said. “There are different words for the different gender in Arjiki.”

“I’m sorry. So what should I say?” she asked, curious.

He said it again, with an additional syllabus at the end of the sentence, and she repeated after him. He nodded to let her know that she got it right, and she repeated it again.

“So what does it mean?”

He shrugged. “It’s just an old Arjiki saying.”

“It must mean something.”

He held her hand and placed it over his heart, covering it with his other hand.

“It means ‘My heart is yours’.”

* * *

“It’s town or nothing,” Fiyero protested, folding his arms across his chest.

“Nothing then,” Elphaba replied without hesitation. She turned around, ready to walk to where Galinda and Avaric were waiting, when a familiar pair of hands caught her shoulders and spun her around, right into his arms.

She looked at him, eyebrows raised without a word.

“Elphaba, please. I’m bored. I’m sick of the food here. I’ll go crazy if I have to spend another evening in Shiz.”

“You need to rest.”

“It’s been two weeks,” he cajoled, referring to the time lapsed since his last attack. Elphaba had insisted that they stayed on campus so that he would not overexert himself, though she had no idea if fatigue was a cause of his relapse. “We’ll just go for dinner and then come back. I’ll be in bed by ten.” He upped his charm. “You can tuck me in.” 

She rolled her eyes.

“Come on, both of you – in or out?” Avaric shouted.

“Out!” Fiyero hollered back and gave her a quick peck on her cheek. “Thank you,” he said to her before she could object and locked their fingers, smiling at her bewildered look when she realised that he had out-tricked her.

They went to town, searching for a café where they did not have to wait.

“Remember this place?” Fiyero asked when they walked past one of the buildings. Elphaba looked up. It was the place where she had worked one night as a model for an art school, the night where Fiyero had first kissed her. “You never go back again.”

She attempted a shrug. “He does not want to bore his students by making them draw green people week after week.”

He chuckled and leaned close so that he could whisper into her ear. “I would love it if I get to draw you week after week.”

They found a place that passed Galinda’s scrutiny a few blocks away, and the boys offered to order their food at the counter, leaving the girls at the table.

“Sweet Lurline, it’s so good to complete the term assignments,” Galinda said, stretching her back like a cat. “You’re so lucky, Elphie, you don’t have homework, you don’t have tests…”

“I wish I can be like you,” the green girl admitted.

“Popular like me?” the blonde batted her eyelids.

Elphaba laughed. “Studying like what you are doing. Learning new things, learning from the best teachers.” She added after a while. “I’m learning new things from Doctor Dillamond too, but it’s just Biology. Maybe I’m greedy, but I want to learn about other things too. Just sit down and listen to the teachers as they impart their knowledge, exchanging ideas with classmates…” she gave a dreamy smile, and rested her chin on her hands. 

“Oh gosh, Elphie. You speak as if you are in love with learning! I don’t see you dreamy like this when we talk about Fiyero.”

Elphaba straightened, hoping that her blush would not show.

“We’re just friends,” she said, trying to retain the smile on her face.

“Really?”

“They’re taking a long time,” she tried to change the topic as she looked at the waiter at the counter who was taking down their orders slowly.

“Elphie, I’m just… “ Galinda shook her head again. “I know I’m a party pooper, but …” she dropped her voice as she looked behind Elphaba at the direction of the counter. “I have an aunt, my mother’s cousin. She was engaged to be married to the man she loved, and then the fever took her fiancé’s life. She was devastated and … she just went...” Galinda bit her lip as she tried to stop herself from voicing an inappropriate word. “Her family tried to help, but they had no choice but to commit her a few years later, and she’s still there, as far as I know, dressed in her wedding finery and thinking that it is her wedding day.” She leaned forward and cover the other girl’s hand with her own. “I love Fiyero like a brother, but sometimes we can’t stop what’s inevitable. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Elphaba patted her hand. “Nothing bad will happen to me.” She looked down, hoping that Galinda would not see the doubt on her face. 

The boys came back at that moment, putting a stop to the conversation.

They had a simple dinner, with Fiyero sitting next to Elphaba, leaning close to her when he talked to her. After dinner, they were on the way to the main road where most cabs plied when Galinda was distracted by a newly opened shop with scarves and dresses of every shade and colour hanging from its rafters.

“Scarves,” she exclaimed, as she pulled Elphaba into the shop. She looked back helplessly at the two guys. The aisles were supposed to be wide, but there were racks along the sides filled with coats and scarves and dresses and far too many tulle skirts to count. Galinda started to pull dresses from the rack, pressing one against herself, then the next one against Elphaba, and then she turned a corner and Elphaba followed. The place was much larger than expected, an endless maze (or maybe Galinda just led her through the same aisles over and over again). Elphaba followed Galinda as her friend made yet another turn, but she found the next aisle empty, her friend gone.

The fabric crowded around her.

“Galinda?” There was no response. She called her friend’s name again.

Elphaba moved to the end of the aisle and peeped into the next one, but Galinda was not there either. She pushed on ahead, squeezing herself between the racks of clothes, but there was no one there. She looked behind her, and it was only then that she realised that she could no longer see the entrance of the shop. Another aisle without Galinda, and her heart started to hammer wildly.

“Looking for someone?” A voice asked. She turned sharply at the voice and saw an old lady, a full head of silver hair flowing down her shoulders. 

"Don't you remember me?" she asked. There was something familiar about her, like a book that was impressed on her many years ago but that she no longer remembered. She suddenly felt as if she was transported somewhere, somewhere where her palms were pressing on something cold and hard. She could hear her mother's panicked voice in the distance, the cool breeze that sent ripples across a pond.

“I guess not yet. But you will. So who is the young man waiting outside?” The old lady gestured behind her. Elphaba spun around, but there were only clothes and more clothes behind her, the bright colours suddenly clownish and scary without reason. “Handsome, isn’t he? But do you know what’s under that heart-breaking face?”

And suddenly she remembered who she was.

“You’re the trickster, the one in the fortune teller tent.” Though she remembered that the old lady in the tent had milky eyes that had looked blind, and this one could definitely see.

The old woman chuckled. “Trickster? Is that what you think of me? You don’t believe in destiny? In fate?”

“There’s no such thing as fate. A person’s life is in her own hands.”

The old woman reached out a hand, clawed fingers going around her wrist. Her touch seemed to freeze Elphaba. She wanted to step back, but her feet were rooted to the ground.

And then she remembered.  
_  
“It is not fortune telling, dearie. It is the future. Your future, and the future of your daughters.” The old woman pointed a crooked finger at Melena’s stomach. _

_Elphaba pressed herself against her mother. At that moment, she wished that she could be absorbed into her mother so that she is comfortable and protected. Just like the baby. Elphaba looked up at her mother, who shook her head frantically. “No, this is a son. I am carrying a boy.”_

_The old woman clucked. “Now who told you that the baby is a boy. It is a girl. A baby girl. She is an exact image of you, the same dark brown hair and beautiful fair skin.”_

_“And their futures?” she whispered. _

_The old woman shook her head slowly._

Elphaba finally remembered the words that she had forgotten so many years ago.

_  
“Your daughters, Melena. Death follows them.”_

_“No!” Melena screamed as she pressed her hands against Elphaba’s ears and she staggered backwards, away from the old woman. Melena’s sharp nails dug into her skin and it hurt, but Melena did not hear the whimpering of her eldest child. “No, no, no, no, no. You’re lying.” Melena kept shouting, but Elphaba could hear every word from the old woman distinctly._

It was her, and yet it was not. The old lady was the same as the one who stood at the edge of the pond more than a decade ago, but yet she was different. She was still old, but she was younger than what Elphaba remembered, as if the years had dropped from her like the shedding of leaves, rendering her younger, while everyone else grew older.

It was impossible.

“Isn’t it ironic when love, which is supposed to give life, takes it away?” The old woman shook her head sadly.

Elphaba knew whom she loved most in the world. Her mommy. Nanny who claimed that she had outwitted Death many times. Her little sister who died at birth, the little baby sister whom she never got to carry.

“Nanny. What’s going to happen to Nanny?”

“Nanny?” the old woman wheezed as she cackled, her shoulders moving up and down asynchronously.

She could feel the blood pounding in her ears. She tried to heave in breaths, to clear the throbbing in her head, but it was as if the scarves were not just around her but_ in her_, blocking her airways, winding around her throat and squeezing the air out. 

Nanny. It could only be Nanny. But the eyes of the old woman before her and her knowing smile said otherwise.

Black dots filled her vision.

“So there you are.” She heard a familiar voice behind her.

Elphaba spun around, but her world turned black before she could see his face.

Galinda’s voice was the first thing she heard when she regained consciousness.

“You’re awake!”, the blonde exclaimed, and the cushion around her shifted. No, not a cushion. It was Fiyero with his arms around her and her head on his chest.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Are you alright?”

“You scared me, Elphie. You scared all of us.” The blonde put her hand on her chest.

“She screamed,” Avaric contributed. “And that’s not a pretty – aww… Galinda! That hurts!” He winced when his friend elbowed him.

“You deserved it,” the shorter girl muttered.

“What happened?” She struggled to sit up. She sounded weak, and Fiyero steadied her with another arm.

“You fainted in the shop.”

She turned towards the direction of the shop, and had to lean against Fiyero again as the giddiness passed.

“Steady,” Fiyero said.

She could see the shop from where she was, all the way to the back, filled with bright and colourful dresses, scarves and other accessories. At the counter, a woman in her thirties was talking to a customer. She tried to recall if that was the same woman that she had seen just now, but she just could not remember. There was no endless aisles, no mountains of clothes pressing against one another. Her hand went to her throat, expecting to find a scarf wound around her neck. But there was none. She shuddered all the same.

“Elphie, are you alright?” Galinda asked as she pressed her palm to her green forehead.

“I’m fine,” she lied. “The shop is rather stuffy.”

“Definitely not made for shopping,” Fiyero commented, his hand gentle on the small of her back. “Let’s call it a day.” 

“You’re very quiet.” He said when they were back on campus. Avaric had offered to send Galinda back to her room, and the couple found themselves alone.

“I’m tired,” she said, and it was true. The incident had drained all energy from her, and it seemed that Fiyero’s arm around her was the only thing that was keeping her upright.

“I think what you need is a hot cup of chocolate,” he suggested.

“The café’s closed.”

“I have some in my room, and a warm, comfortable bed for you to sleep in.” He turned and pulled her to him, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Fiyero pursed his lips. He hoped that she could not hear the pounding of his heart. He was not going to tell her how scared he was when she fainted in front of him, when he thought that somehow her heart had suddenly failed, a more severe manifestation of what he had. “Nothing more, I swear.” He cradled her face and pressed his lips to the top of her head. He did not want her out of his sight. 

She closed her eyes and rested her face against his neck, trying to fill her lungs with his scent, trying hard not to think of the moments in the shop, of the face that she could not recall. 

“Yero?” she asked.

“Yes?”

She tried to form the question, but her mind refused to cooperate. She shook her head instead and snuggled closer to him for comfort.

They stayed like that for a long time, until the distant toll of a bell broke them from their reverie, reminding them that it was curfew.

“I’m going to turn into a pumpkin,” Fiyero jested and was rewarded by her soft chuckle. He cupped her face, his thumb tracing a line on her cheek. “So I guess no hot chocolate?”

She shook her hand, turning to look at the dormitory that was so close. “You should go back.” The sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. “It’s going to rain soon.”

“What about breakfast tomorrow? Eight?”

She nodded. “That sounds great.”

He walked her to her front door and kissed her on her forehead.

“Goodnight then. And sweet dreams.”

* * *

Galinda was about to leave her room when there was a frantic knock on her door. She opened the door and saw a face she did not expect.

“Fiyero, what are you doing here?” 

“Is Elphaba with you?”

“No, why would she be with me? I’m meeting Milla for breakfast.”

Fiyero shook his head. “I’m just guessing. We’re supposed to meet for breakfast, but she was not at her dorm when I went over. I thought that perhaps she came over to your room.”

“No, she is not with me. Are you sure she is not at her dorm? Perhaps she overslept?”

The prince shook his head again. “You know I can’t go in, but I’ve asked a few girls who came out, and none of them has seen her this morning.”

“The reading room?” she asked, referring to the reading room in the dormitory.

She was going to be late for breakfast, but she went to the dorm with him all the same. Boys were not allowed to enter the girls’ dormitory, but Galinda could. She came out sometime later, shaking her head at the questioning look on his face.

“Could she have gone to Doctor Dillamond’s office?” The thought suddenly occurred to her. “Perhaps she wanted to clear some work and lost track of time?”

The two of them made their way across the campus. The grass was wet, the result of a thunderstorm that came in the middle of the night and ended before morning. As they approached the building, they could see that the windows were closed. Fiyero knocked on the door, but no one answered.

He was about to leave when he decided to try the door. It opened easily with a twist.

An unfamiliar smell assaulted their noses.

“What’s that smell?” Galinda asked as Fiyero lifted a hand.

"Stay outside," he instructed as he took a step inside. Galinda took a few steps backwards. There was something about the air that she did not like. She heard Fiyero swear as he stepped inside, and he spoke again a few seconds later.

“Galinda, get someone from the infirmary.”

“What happened?” she asked.

"There has been an incident. We need help." There was something in his voice, something that was bordering on panic.

“Is Elphie there? Is she alright?” she asked.

“Run, Galinda! There’s no time to lose!” Fiyero raised his voice, and she bolted.

It took some time before she could convince the staff on duty to follow her. They had hesitated, not knowing if they should believe her when she had no information on what had happened and who was injured. It was only until she threatened that the royal Arjiki family would lodge a complaint that they followed her.

An unbelievable sight greeted the trio when they entered the dim office. The goat was on the floor, the blood on the floor and the wide gaping wound on his neck leaving without a doubt that he had long gone. Elphaba was next to his body, her eyes wide but unseeing, her bloodied hands raised and clasping something that they could not see. The prince knelt before her, his pants stained with blood. As they watched, he spoke softly to her as he worked to unclamp her fingers to reach the weapon, his blood mingling with hers.


	14. Chapter 14

Fiyero walked alone along the corridor, his face devoid of any expression. It had been days since he had laughed, days since he found something to smile about. A friend waved to him, and he gave a perfunctory nod before moving on, not even stopping for a chat. 

He had a bouquet of flowers on one hand, and on the other, a simply wrapped present. The look on his face discouraged anyone from approaching him, and he did not care.

The last class had ended some time ago. The corridors were empty save for a few students, but he thought that he could hear the whispers around him as he made his way to the infirmary, echoes of the words spoken hours ago, days ago. Gossip that was passed from the lips of one group to another. Rumours that had spread like wildfire.

“They said that she was caught stealing by Doctor Dillamond and she killed him.”

“How could she be so vicious?”

“I heard that she has been locked up; she has gone crazy.”

“Was she even sane in the first place!”

“The attacker cut her so badly she is disfigured for life.”

“Really? Or did she mutilate herself for attention?”

The prince was glad when he finally reached the tiny park bordering the infirmary. There were a few bushes and climbers at the fence, but the branches were limp and greyish, the flowers small and pathetic, just like the atmosphere around the place. 

Galinda was seated on one of the benches, and he handed the flowers to her wordlessly.

“You’re not taking care of your wounds,” she said as she turned over his hand and looked at the tiny cuts on his fingers and palm.

“They’ll heal,” was his reply. He’d heal. But Elphaba? He had no idea.

“She won’t want you to be like this.”

“Really? Did she say that?” He could not hide the mockery in his voice.

“Yero,” she chided him gently as she touched him on his face. “You know she will… if she could.”

He did not acknowledge her statement. He did not want to talk about it. He passed her the present instead.

“This is for her.” He passed the present to the blonde. “It’s a book and a pen. She can write… just write whatever she’s thinking, how she’s feeling. Just don’t tell her it’s from me.”

“Don’t you want to see her?”

He shook his head. “I got to go to Madame Morrible’s office. There’s a delivery from home.” He used his medicine as an excuse. The box had arrived a few days ago, but he was not in the mood to see Madame Morrible and listened to her lectures.

“It’s not you that she’s scared of, Yero. You knew that. She wasn’t herself that day.”

Oz, how much he wanted to believe that. But he knew better. He had snuck in once since male visitors are forbidden in the ladies’ wing, but her violent reaction had brought the staff running. He did not think that he could take it anymore if she looked at him again with the horror look in her eyes, the way she backed herself into a corner and wrapped her arms around him as if he was the monster who had held her against her will that night and hurt her. Galinda had explained later that Elphaba had just woken up after being sedated and was disoriented, but he wondered how true it was.

“She is much better now.”

He nodded, even though he did not believe a word she said. How much better was she? Was she a shadow of her former self, a silver of her original personality? Healed physically but forever scarred?

“You better go in; she must be bored without any company.” Fiyero pushed Galinda towards the direction of the infirmary. He did not even bother to smile since he knew that she would never buy it.

The green girl was where Galinda expected her to be when she entered the room – on her bed with her legs pulled tight against her chest, seemingly lost in thoughts. The cuts were recovering, and Galinda wondered not for the first time about the motive of the attacker. The sole deep cut on Doctor Dillamond had shown that the attacker had the strength to inflict deep fatal wounds, so why were Elphaba’s wounds shallow? Perhaps the person loved to inflict pain and naturally assumed that Elphaba treasured her looks like most girls. Perhaps he was right. She shuddered and pushed away the thoughts before she stepped up to her friend with a bright smile.

“Good afternoon, Elphie. How are you feeling today?” She sat on the edge of the bed and faced the other girl. She knew that she would not be expecting any reply. She had not spoken a word since that day. Nothing could elicit a reply from her. In the beginning, she had even resisted all attempts to help, flailing and shoving when the nurses tried to check on her wounds. She could not even scream, and Galinda had to look away when they restrained her so that the doctor on duty could inject a sedative into her blood, her eyes misting when she heard her friend whimpering as if she was asking her for help. The nurses left her pretty much alone after that. There was nothing much they could do anyway. They were trained to attend to cuts and burns, fever and coughs, but Elphaba’s wounds were of a different kind. But the blonde persevered, and slowly succeeded in coaxing her to eat and unclench her fists so that she could clean the cuts on her palm caused by the microscopic lens that she had gripped the whole night in a bid to defend herself. 

She was not surprised to find the lunch untouched. Elphaba seemed to have lost her sense of hunger together with her speech. It was still lukewarm though, and Galinda handed the bowl to her. She chattered about her day as Elphaba took her meal slowly, the new things that she had learnt in class that morning, the breakfast that Avaric nearly dropped onto the floor because he thought he saw a rat in the cafe. She cleared the vase, disposing the flowers from yesterday. They were still fresh, but Fiyero brought fresh blooms every day, and there was only one vase in the ward. She did not tell the green girl that Madame Morrible had gotten the janitors to clear out Doctor Dillamond’s office. She was the only one who was there when the Goat’s books and notes were bundled out of his office callously and tossed into a bonfire that was lit for only one purpose. Galinda had stood there watching as the newly added fuel sent the flame high up into the sky as if it was trying to send the books to Doctor Dillamond who was in heaven. When the men went into the office for another round, she quickly put her hand in and retrieved a few books from the pile that were yet untouched. She had wanted to look at the books when she was back in her room, but her hands refused to stop shaking and she had stashed them in one of her suitcases instead, together with some of the clothes that she would no longer wear. No one would find them.

“Guess who is this from?” she asked cheerfully. Elphaba’s mind seemed far away, and Galinda wrapped her fingers around the gift and got her attention momentarily. 

“It’s not from me, and it’s definitely not from Avaric. So guess who is it from?” The green girl blinked.

“It’s from Yero. He got it for you. It’s for you to ... you can do whatever you want with it. Doodle, or write. You can even tear the pages out and fold them into paper cranes.” She beamed that she saw the smile that appeared for a brief second. She unwrapped the present to reveal the book and pen within. “He misses you, Elphie, and he can’t come in. I’ve never seen him so dejected before. I keep telling him that you’re recovering, but I don’t think he believes me. He wants to see you so much. Would you like to see him too?”

* * *

Fiyero paced near the bench. 

And paced. He stopped and looked at the door that was still closed.

He continued to pace. 

He had changed his clothes umpteenth times before he left his room, and still, he wondered if he should have worn something else, something less threatening, though he had no idea what kind of clothes would be less threatening.

He spun around at the sound of a creak and was glad to see Galinda appearing at the door of the infirmary, pushing a wheelchair with a girl on it. Up till that moment, he was afraid that the nurses might stop them from coming out, or Elphaba might change her mind and refuse to meet him. But there they were, making their way to him, and he felt the heaviness in his heart lift.

He went to them, taking over the wheelchair and pushed the green girl wordlessly to the bench. He wanted to help her to the bench so that he could sit next to her, but the shaking of Galinda’s head stopped him. He knelt before the green girl instead, and his hands were halfway across the short distance between them before he remembered to stop himself.

“Hey,” he said instead, keeping his voice soft, “I got you some flowers.” Tired, bloodshot eyes looked back at him, her green hands still on her lap, and he did not know what else to say. 

Galinda stepped in and took the poppies from him and wrapped Elphaba’s hands around the stems, and Fiyero wondered what would happen if he touched her. Would she scream? Would she flinch? Would she push him away, as if he was trying to attack her?

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they, Elphie?” Galinda asked. 

“You know, I never knew what is your favourite flower. For all I know I have been getting you flowers that you hate.” He forced a chuckle. “You’re going to tell me if I’m making a fool of myself, aren’t you?”

“He might have captured the hearts of a thousand girls, but I think he’s absolutely hopeless when it comes to you, Elphie.”

Was that a faint smile on her face?

“By the way, I spoke to the nurses just now. They are going to transfer her to the common ward this afternoon, which means that you can now come and visit her. It also means that she will be discharged soon. Isn’t it great?” Galinda told him.

“That’s good news. Can I come and visit you after class?” He asked the green girl. “I’ll bring some books, and we can read them together.”

* * *

Fiyero sat next to Elphaba, a book opened on her lap. She was the only patient in the common ward that week, and he could read out without disturbing anyone else. 

He reached the end of a chapter and rubbed the back of his neck which had been aching from the odd angle he was keeping. He looked at Elphaba. Her eyes were fixed at a spot at the wall, unseeing and he knew that he had lost her attention again. She was so still, as if she was posing for a drawing, or if she had turned into stone.

His hands hovered above hers, and for a moment, he wondered what would happen if he covered her hand with his and locked their fingers, if he traced the scars on her cheeks. Would she squeeze his fingers back and leaned into his touch, or would she scramble away, her eyes wild with fear?

She took in a shuddered breath, a shiver running through her, and she was a stone no more.

He exhaled and closed the book.

“I think that’s enough reading for the day.” He put on a smile. “Let’s go out for some fresh air. Galinda’s class should be ending soon. I’ve asked her to get some cakes from the café; you must be sick of the food here.”

He coaxed her to stand up, to put her feet into her shoes. They went to the small garden surrounding the infirmary, sitting down on what he now knew was her favourite spot in the enclosure, a bench under a big tree with long branches that stretched out like loving arms, shielding her from the sun and the scrutiny of the passersby.

Fiyero was dismayed to find that the clouds had gathered quickly, blocking out the sun. He always thought that she seemed to look slightly happier when the sun was out. A gentle breeze blew, and Fiyero wondered if she would feel cold.

“I’ll grab a blanket,” he told her with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Fiyero had barely disappeared from her sight when three girls who were still clad in their uniforms entered the compound. They made their way to the tree and stood before Elphaba.

“Hey, you,” the first girl spoke. “Listen. I’m warning you – stay away from Fiyero.”

“He doesn’t belong to you,” the second girl said. “You’re not worthy of his attention. And stop this pretence. We all know that you’re faking it.”

“Poor little green girl,” the third girl mocked her. “Wounded and hurt. So scared until she cannot speak anymore.”

“Sweet Lurline, who’d believe that.”

“And Fiyero is so kind to her… my prince.” The girl put a hand to her heart.

The girls bristled when Elphaba did not acknowledge them. The first girl pushed at her shoulder.

“Are you deaf? Stay away from Fiyero,” she repeated. “You’re pathetic.”

“How about this?” her friend asked as she shoved Elphaba to the ground.

The third girl looked around and picked up a fallen branch, wielding it threateningly.

“Maybe this will make you prettier,” she sneered, as she swung the branch at her face, scratching her cheek.

“Didn’t work,” another girl cackled.

“Lurline, she’s so dumb.” And they laughed.

The girl swung the branch again, and Elphaba tried to back off, but she found her back against the bench.

“Who gave you permission to move?” One of the other girls barked. She snatched the branch from her friend and struck at Elphaba repeatedly. She was about to strike again when there was a loud report above them. The girls looked up at the sound and jumped back just in time to avoid a thick branch falling from the tree and landing at the spot where they were occupying moments earlier. They stared at the deadwood, their jaws dropped, and then they turned to face the green girl.

“Sorcery!” one of them screeched, and she started to hit Elphaba again, ignoring the green girl’s raised hand as she tried to protect herself. The branch snapped, and the three girls fell on her, raining blows on the defenceless girl.

And then Fiyero was there, pushing them away.

“Stop! Stop this nonsense!” 

Their snarls turned into smiles when they saw who it was.

“Fiyero!” They chorused.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He growled at them as he knelt and pulled a shaking Elphaba into his arms. 

“She’s a witch, Fiyero!”

“She has cast a spell on you!”

“She tried to kill us!”

“Are you alright?” He asked her as he pulled her to her feet, his thumb tracing the new scratches on her hand. She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut, the trembling telling him more than any words could. He draped her arm over his shoulder and lifted her into his arms easily, and Elphaba buried her face in the crook of his neck, her fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt as she gave out a shuddered breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. He was sorry, for not coming out earlier. For taking so long to find a blanket. For not convincing her to spend the night in his room that fateful night. For everything.

The girls called him again, but Fiyero did not hear them at all.

* * *

Madame Morrible came in the evening.

“I’m disappointed in you, Miss Thropp. I have wanted to wait until you’re better, but with the latest happening there is no way you can stay here any longer.”

“What happened, Madame?” Galinda asked respectfully, not forgetting her manners.

“I have received a complaint this afternoon that Miss Thropp has attacked a few of our students.” 

“Attacked? Look at her, Madame. Look at this.” He showed her the cuts on Elphaba’s hand that was caused by the branch. “They hit her with a tree branch. They should be counting their lucky stars that I did not call the police.”

“She used sorcery on them,” came the reply.

“She… what?” Fiyero was flabbergasted. “Elphaba doesn’t know sorcery. This is preposterous.” He was about to say more but Galinda stopped him with a gentle touch on his arm.

“Madame. Elphaba still needs her rest. You can’t send her back to the dormitory. There’re too many students there. It’ll be too noisy. She won’t be able to rest well, and we all know that a patient needs peace and quiet to recover.”

“The girls have lodged a complaint and I cannot pretend that nothing has happened. They are demanding that she should be dismissed. To be honest, her position ceases with Doctor Dillamond’s death, and it is only due to my generosity that she gets to stay on. I heard that she will be discharged tomorrow. She has until the end of the day to move her things out of the dormitory.”

“This is terrible.” Galinda pulled Fiyero out of the room for a discussion the moment Madame Morrible left. “What are we going to do?” The blonde thought for a while. “I’ll go to town tomorrow and look around.”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you hear what Madame Morrible say? She is giving Elphie until the end of tomorrow to move out. I’m sure we’ll be able to find a room for rental if we ask around.”

“She does not need to stay in town.”

“Then where is she going to stay? You don’t mean for her to go back to Munchkinland, do you?” 

“She’ll stay with me,” he said, a plan formulating in his mind. 

Galinda’s eyes widened.

“I have a spare room in my suite. She can stay there. That room is reserved for any servant or helper that I choose to bring with me, and if Madame Morrible asks, I can always say that I’m hiring her. She can’t stop me.” 

He was not going to let her go back to Munchkinland.

* * *

He woke up with a start. Something had woken him up. What was it? Was someone at the door? Or did a broken branch fell off and hit his window? He sat in the dark, trying to get a sense of his surroundings, trying to figure out the source of the sound when he heard it again. A thud, a soft hitting sound, and it was followed by the unmistakable sound of a gasp.

It was the first day she was discharged. Galinda and Fiyero had brought her back to his room. Her belongings were already there, brought over by the blonde and put into the wardrobe. The prince had spent the whole afternoon cleaning the room, airing it and putting on fresh bedsheets. He bought a bouquet of lavender, hoping that the scent of the flowers would ease her to sleep easily, to sleep dreamlessly. But the increased trashing as he moved across the room told him otherwise.

He pressed his hand on the door, putting his head close to the wood. 

“Elphaba?”

There was no reply.

He placed his hand on the doorknob just as she let out a muffled cry. He imagined her sitting up on the bed, disoriented, her clothes soaked in sweat.

“Elphaba,” he called her name again as he twisted the doorknob.

The door was locked.

* * *

He found himself unable to sleep well at night, waking at the slightest sounds, wondering if she was having another of her nightmares. He stood outside her door, his forehead leaning against the door as he lived through her nightmare. His eyes squeezed shut when the trashing and whimpers rose to a crescendo, when she gave out the silent cry that told him that she has woken up, the soft sobbing that followed. He would only leave after her breathing slowed down and she had calmed down, knowing that most probably it would not be the last nightmare that she would have that night, knowing fully well her eyes would be bloodshot the next morning, the circles under her eyes getting increasing darker. Knowing that there was nothing he could do to help her.

Her door remained locked.

In the daytime, his mind wandered during class, wondering how she was faring on her own. He found himself unable to concentrate, unable to hear a single thing the lecturer said. The examinations would be coming soon, but he found his mind a blank whenever he looked at his textbook. Perhaps he should consider dropping some of the modules to save everyone the hassle. She had mentioned before that he should do things for himself and not for her, but how could he concentrate when all he could think of was the girl in his room, the once feisty girl who was now a little more than a shadow, more like a ghost?

* * *

“Can you do me a favour?” he asked Galinda one day after class. “Can I have a night off? I need a break. Can you take care of her just for one evening?”

Of course, Galinda was more than happy to oblige.

* * *

“So what did I do to deserve the honour?” Avaric asked when they had settled down in the fanciest restaurant in town.

Fiyero ignored his friend as he down the wine at one go before he signalled for another. He poked at his food, pushing them around the plate until the brown sauce suddenly reminded him of Doctor Dillamond’s blood on the floor and he pushed it away.

“You look terrible,” the Gillikinese drew circles around his eyes with his fork. “You look like a racoon.”

“Just want to make myself less handsome so that you won’t feel suicidal,” he deadpanned.

“I never know you’re such a good friend,” the blond jibbed. “But you don’t have to worry, you were never better looking than me in the first place. It’s just the fancy title that they like.”

Fiyero gave a bitter laugh.

“Trouble in paradise?” Avaric asked after a while, his smile dropping just by a little.

Fiyero could only shake his head. 

“Maybe I am asking for too much.” He signalled for his plate to be cleared and drank from the wine glass again.

“Maybe you need something to distract you from your troubles. That’s what a night out is for.” Avaric gestured to two girls who were seated at the next table, their smiles wide when they noticed the prince looking their way. “I can go over and introduce myself first if you’re too shy to do so.” He pushed back his chair.

“Sit, Av.”

Avaric tsked. “Look at this. The scandalecious prince tamed by a girl who cannot even speak.”

“For Oz’s sake,” Fiyero swore. 

His friend chuckled without humour.

“So how is she?” 

Fiyero shook his head. “I don’t know. She’s alive. She’s breathing. She’s eating. Not much, but at least she is eating. But she is not there. Most of the time she behaved like a tik tok – she’d do something if you asked her to, but most of the time she’s in a daze, her mind somewhere. She’s been having nightmares every night. And I cannot even go in her room and comfort her because she kept her door locked. And I …. I don’t know how to talk to her about it. I don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to hug her? Talk to her?” He dropped his shoulders, defeated. “Sometimes, I imagine that the attacker is one of us, one of the students, and he’ll break into my room when I was not around and finished off the job. Sometimes, I imagine that she’ll be gone when I’m back from class. And sometimes I want her to be gone.” 

He looked at his glass, chewing his lower lip. He had always heard that a burden shared is a burden halved, but he felt the weight on him, heavier than before. He let out a sigh, and it was a while before he spoke again.

“I gave her a dagger a few days ago.”

Avaric nearby spitted out his drink.

“What? Do you think that it’s wise? Other guys will give the girls that they like roses and jewellery and you gave her a dagger? Is it some kind of Vinkun tradition that I’m not aware of? Some form of betrothal gift? You know, for her to exact revenge when you are unfaithful in the future?” he made a sawing motion with his steak knife.

Fiyero pinched the bridge of his nose, and the blond sat back as he waited for an explanation.

“Something spooked her that day.” Avaric gestured with his fork for him to continue. “I went back after class, and something scared her. I don’t know what it was, but I opened the door and she was standing there holding a kitchen knife and shaking so badly…”

“Are you sure she was not trying to kill you?”

The Arjiki gave a bitter laugh and shook his head again.

“She dropped the knife when she saw that it was me. She was trembling so badly. She was so scared, but I just cannot figure out why. I … I have a Vinkun dagger. It’s very handy. It’s sharp and it has a good grip. And it comes with a leather sheath. I always bring it with me whenever I go on my short trips to the Thousand Year Grasslands and use it to cut the fruits from the trees, to carve the meat. It’s smaller than a kitchen knife. It’s small enough to be kept inside a handbag.” 

“Do you know what you are saying? Do you know that there is a law against carrying weapons in public? What if someone finds out? What if she brandishes it out in public? What if she decides to stab a girl because she was flirting with you?”

Fiyero continued as if he did not hear his friend. “And I’ve taught her how to use it. Which grip to use. Where to cut.” He remembered the concentration on her face as she tried out the dagger, the ways her brows knitted. He did not tell Avaric of the split-second fear when she tried out a move, when he wondered if she would use the same move on him one day.

“You’re so full of surprises,” was all Avaric could say.

“I don’t care so long as she feels safe.”

He knocked back his wine and raised his hand for another glass.

Avaric pulled the glass away.

“I think that’s enough for one night. I don’t want to pull you back to Shiz by the hair. And I don’t want to give her an excuse to run you through with that wedding gift.”

“It’s not a wedding gift.”

“Whatever.” Avaric waved his fork.

“I’m thinking of dropping my modules.”

“What?”

“You heard it. I’m going to fail anyway. I can’t juggle both Elphaba and school. I’m going crazy. It’s like she is there but she is not there. She could improve or she could descend further. This could last for months, for years. She might never recover. I don’t think I can live like this forever.” The words that he would never say in front of Galinda, the thoughts that he was too ashamed to tell Galinda.

Avaric’s dessert arrived, and he put a large piece into his mouth and continued with his mouth full.

“Then don’t juggle. Just send her away, and your problems will be all gone. I’m sure she has a family somewhere, maybe an aunt or a cousin. You are not the best person to take care of her. You are not trained in this. You are not a family member. You are not obliged to do anything for her. Let someone else take over. You can provide them with the necessary funds if they cannot afford any sort of decent care. If it makes you feel better, you can handpick the best place that your money can buy. The institution with the best environment and that provides the best medical care. I am sure her family will understand. And you can visit her if you feel like it. Remember Galinda’s aunt? I know the place where she is at. That place is gorgeous. It has a huge garden, a solarium, rooms for painting and dancing. And a library; I’m sure your bookworm will like that. The nurses are good with the patients – they always ensure that the patients are calm and presentable when there are visitors. It will be less painful for everyone. You can even direct your bank to just wire the fees over monthly – you won’t have to worry that you’ll miss a single payment and she’ll get booted out.” The Gillikinese snapped his fingers. “Simple as that.”

Fiyero looked at him.

“You really think so?”

Avaric nodded. “You don’t have to mention her to the next girl you date. Your future wife will never know about it since everything has been prearranged. You are still young, Fiyero. You have a life ahead of you. She is just some girl that you have kissed a couple of times. She is not your wife, not even your girlfriend. No one will blame you if you send her away. I bet that everyone will understand.”

Fiyero heaved a sigh. He looked at the empty wine glass on the table, wishing that there was something that he could sip while he thought it over. Not that he needed time to consider. Avaric’s speech had convinced him on what he should do.

He looked at his friend.

“I can’t.” 

Avaric raised his eyebrows as if he was surprised and then dapped at his mouth with the napkin. He hoped that he managed to hide the smile on his lips.

* * *

He had always thought that pills would be strong enough to knock him out cold, but he was proven wrong a few days later when he was woken by something loud enough to permeate his dead sleep.

He had felt the onset of the familiar pain a few hours earlier and had popped some of the pills. He had left Elphaba alone before the fireplace, staring at the fireplace as he staggered back into his room without a word, trying to reach his bed before he lost consciousness from the combined effect of the pain and the medication.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He did not need her to help him, but why must she have one of her nightmares when he had one of his attacks? Why couldn’t he just sleep through her nightmares so that he would be fresh enough to face another day the next morning? He resented her then, just for a moment, and then hated himself for being such a jerk. He struggled to stand up, reminding himself that she did not ask for this.

She was his responsibility, no matter what Avaric had said.

He staggered out of his bedroom, and there she was. She had slid to the foot of the couch where he had last seen her, cowed into a ball of green and black. Her knees were drawn to her chest, and her hands were wrapped around her body, shivering as she faced the demons in her nightmare.

He dropped to his knees and called her name weakly. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and her legs jerked out as she scrambled to push herself further into the couch, her eyes still closed. She was shaking uncontrollably, whimpering meaningless sounds.

“Elphaba.” He tried to pull her into his arms, but Elphaba pushed him away as her whimpers cascaded into moans of pain. Fiyero tried to wrap his arms around her, but she lashed out at him, her short nails racking his cheek, scratching his skin. Another swipe nearly got his eye, and Fiyero had no choice but to put his weight on her and pin her arms between them, ignoring her cries of anguish.

“Elphaba, please,” he pleaded, trying to make himself heard above her cries and the pain that flooded his brain. “Please Elphaba, it’s me. It’s Fiyero. I’m not trying to hurt you.” She continued to struggle, and he prayed that she would wake up sooner, praying that he would not black out before then. “It’s me, it’s Fiyero. It’s just a nightmare. You’re safe now.” He repeated his words, grabbing for her arms whenever she managed to escape the confines of his grip. “Elphaba, it’s just a dream. Wake up, open your eyes. Please.” He knew the moment she woke from her nightmare, as the anguish cries turned softer when her stiff body softened and her struggles lessened. She let out a sob. “It’s just a dream,” Fiyero said as he reached for her fingers, feeling the way she hesitated before she curled her fingers around his. “I’ll protect you, and no one will ever hurt you again,” he mumbled into her hair, even though he knew at the back of his mind and that he was in no position to fulfil that promise. He pulled her to him as her breathing slowed down to normal, when her hands grappled at him as if he was her lifeline, her anchor, and he wrapped his arms around her. He felt the rise and fall of her chest, the breaths coming out of her mouth, breaths that sounded almost like the beginning of words, her tears on his skin. He closed his eyes, telling himself that he would rest for a while to regain his strength, and then he would bring her back to her room. But the medicine and pain soon pulled him into the sea of deep, dark sleep.

He woke up a few hours later, his whole body aching from the awkward position that he had kept. Elphaba’s head was resting on the crook of his neck, a tiny frown between her brows. He wondered how many of her nights were spent huddled in a corner of the room; the bed that looked rarely slept in seemed to indicate that she was no stranger to the cold, hard floor. Maybe he should put a rug in her room, something that could keep her warm if she spent the night on the hard floor. And then he could not stifle a yawn and the slight movement woke her.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up and looked around, the confusion on her face as she tried to recall how she had ended up on the floor. She turned to his direction, and he watched with dismay as her face fell at the sight of him.

Fiyero almost wanted to stand up and walk away at that moment. Perhaps she would be better off without him if he was an impediment to her recovery.

“I… I’ll just….” He gestured, trying to come out with a valid reason to excuse himself from her presence. But Elphaba reached out a hand, her head cocked slightly as if she was trying to get a better view. Her fingers brushed against dried blood on his cheek and she cupped his face gently, her eyes misting over.

“It’s … it’s nothing,” he stammered, too surprised to say anything else. He watched her dimly as she inspected the scratches, more aware of the coolness of her fingertips than anything else. She withdrew her touch, and it seemed to him that she was fading, withdrawing into that shell of hers that he could not penetrate no matter how much he tried.

He caught her wrist without thinking and pulled her to her feet.

He had imagined this scene so many times, but in his mind, he would be kissing every inch of her skin as they crossed the threshold to his bedroom, his hands exploring every curve as he undressed her. But now, his hand gently encircled her wrist, and he looked away when her dress dropped onto the floor.

He sat her on the bed as if she was a doll and dressed her in one of his more comfortable shirts, his fingers fumbled with the buttons as he looked everywhere but at her.

“You’ll sleep here tonight,” he told her. “I’ll be here.” He tucked her in and covered her with the quilt as she lay in a fetal position. He off the light before climbing into the bed and took up position on the other side of the bed, facing her in the darkness. At least he would be close by if she had one of her nightmares again.

“Goodnight.”

He remembered sleeping in fits and starts, his first thought whenever he woke was whether she was having one of her nightmares or if he had slept through it before he remembered that she was with him. He could make out her outline in the dark, and he knew that she had stayed in the same position the whole night. It was only when dawn broke that he realised she had not slept at all. Her eyes were wide open, looking at him, her fingers peeking out of the blanket. And Fiyero wondered for a moment if she thought that she needed to keep a watch over him, as much as he needed to take care of her.

“Why don’t you take a nap?” he suggested. “I’ll be here; there’s no class today.” 

If he were a prince in a fairy tale, the green girl would have closed her eyes and fell asleep upon those words, and all the problems that they had would magically disappear. Instead, she just blinked, her expression unreadable.. Instead, she just blinked, her expression unreadable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried googling to find out more about PTSD, but there is only so much information I could find, and the symptoms differ from case to case. Hopefully, the liberties that I have taken here is not too unbelievable.


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